Asteroid Blues
by sk.ppy
Summary: The New Directions are looking for revenge. Aliens stole the life of Matt Rutherford, Puck's arm, and worse, Santana Lopez's pride. Nothing will stand in Santana's way to even the score, not even Brittany Pierce. AU violence, language, mature themes.
1. Take It Easy

**Disclaimer: I don't own any Glee characters, and the name of the story is from the first episode of Cowboy Bebop to tribute my love for it.**

**AN:** Alright, as stated in the disclaimer this a AU based in space [if you didn't catch that]. Why? Because space ships are awesome. This is Santana centric, so the major focus will be on Brittana XD, but other relationships will be pointed to but not have major impacts on the story line well maybe one. But don't worry your pretty heads.

**Mission Statement:**

This is about Santana as the leader of a group of people that investigates planets and collects data regarding the planet's possible habitation. The team is composed of technical specialists and a small militarized group that protects the specialists; collectively they are the Terra Team. The ship known as New Directions, under control of the United People's Republic, is a Prospective Colony Investigation Unit [PCUI]. As stated the main purpose is recording data of the environment found on the planet. Other units take action on the planets, such as developing the planet for habitation or exterminating pests. The New Directions is only to function as a silent collector. This is why the crew of the PCUI is so small, think of the unit as a tactical team making a preemptive strike on a possible inhabitable planet.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One: Take It Easy<strong>

****|x|X|x|

It was the most insufferable cabin on the entire ship. It was small and unkempt, but the room served its purpose well enough. Though Santana had never been suspect to its particular duty. Every ship in the Republic had one; New Directions even had a holding cell that they used once. As a joke.

Santana had only a few minutes to herself, after shuttling her team into the infirmary and quickly clearing her head, before she was barked into the seldomly used room by Quinn.

The harsh lights and cold metal décor was rivaled only by her Captain's hard glare. Having spent her entire life in less than pleasant dormitories, and not to mention the four years butting head with Captain Fabray, the tag team bout between Quinn and the interrogation room was lost on her.

The Captain slammed her hand against the table, breaking Santana from her thoughts.

"Lieutenant Lopez, I will not ask you a third time. Why wasn't Rutherford wearing the regulation protective gear during the scouting mission?"

Santana scoffed. Quinn was pretending that Matt wearing a fucking vest would have saved him.

Santana had always managed to agree to disagree with her Captain, however in a case such as this there was no room for petty name calling. Not when her reputation and career were on the line. Not when her team mates were injured. Not when a friend died.

She set her eyes to Quinn and bit her tongue, doing her best to ignore the blinking green light behind her captain.

"During the last scout the team concluded that there were no active life forms within the territory. The air suits themselves weigh twenty pounds, the armor adds another thirty. There's no need for a lab tech to be hauling that unnecessary weigh around while scraping together soil samples."

There had been plenty of missions where the nerds complained and Santana allowed them to breach procedure. But never again. Not after this mistake.

"To clarify, you ordered Specialist Rutherford, as well as Specialist Cohen-Chang and Sergeant Zizes to forgo their protective gear."

"I did not give those orders. When the tech team arrived at the dock to deploy without their protective gear I did not correct the error, because of the finding from the day before."

"Are you not taking respons-"

"I am well aware of my actions Captain. I hold full responsibility for the Terra Team and all of the injuries sustained during the last mission." Santana's eyes swirled with unease, she did her best to read her old friend, but the woman in front of her was nothing more than an administrative shell.

A short and heavy silence filled the small room, Captain Fabray studied her tablet laying on the metal table and Santana studied her in turn.

"Lieutenant, state the events of the last scouting mission."

"You know what happened. Why do I-"

"The Republic needs a video statement. Now if you will Lieutenant Lopez." Quinn motioned behind her to the camera built into the wall that Santana was well aware of.

There was no use fighting it. This was an event that she would have to remember again and again. More times in her dreams, rather than to another person. It was a weight for her to forever carry, the story to the slice on her thigh that would scar her.

"After I _didn't_ order the tech team to retrieve their gear, we boarded the PF and descended to the planet's surface."

|x|X|x|

"Let's go Cohen, I don't have all day." Santana stands at the loading dock of the planetary flyer, or as most people called them PF's, observing the crew and checking off her mental list.

"Well it'd be pretty shitty to get down there and not have anything to record the data sets on."

"Can I start it yet?" Finn's voice over the radio in Santana's ear sputters to life. As uncoordinated as Hudson was, he was a good pilot. There were many times where he's skills got everyone out of trouble. But unfortunately he had the maturity of a sixteen year old.

Puckerman saunters from the weapons locker on the PF, stretching himself out in front of Santana. "Why are we going down there with them? There ain't nothing going to eat them."

Santana ignored him, the nerds needed protection, but that didn't make Noah's statement any less false. The last mission's reports showed that there was no presence of alien life on the planet. And it looked much that way to the naked eye.

Of the areas they scouted, the whole planet was nothing more than a desert. She didn't understand why the Republic invested interest into this planet. Empty vast, and hot as hell; really doesn't scream inhabitable.

"And I thought you liked me Puckerman." Zizes sends her quip from across the small cabin. As much as the woman annoys Santana, she did enjoy the fact Noah could be easily distracted by her.

"Baby you know it ain't like that." Another whine over the radio from Finn, a giggle from Tina and Matt, and Santana realized she wanted to be in the air not standing around listening to her team's antics.

"I hear a lot of talking and not enough shutting the fuck up. Finn start the engine. Puck help Rutherford and Cohen with that lab box. Lauren, go eat a snack bar or something."

In a matter of minutes, after the crew and equipment were strapped down, they were blasting out of New Direction's air bay making headway to the planet dubbed by the United People's Republic as A-STOR 3.

Santana sat co-pilot to Finn, carefully watching the radar and coordinates. They were heading to 1.23x, 12.34x for some dirt collecting. She knew it was more than that, but this planet was a total bust. They'd probably be headed off to a new scout in a matter of weeks, instead of spending months hovering over the planet. Santana reminded herself to ask Zizes about that later on.

As they landed the screens in the cockpit where useless, the power of the jets threw sand and dust up in a cloud over the PF. Santana threw off her harness and stepped into the cabin to give her usual speech.

"Alright people. No fucking around. Nerds, do your shit. Don't wander away. Just because there's no little monsters crawling around doesn't mean there aren't sink holes or some other shit for you to fall and die in." Santana scanned her crew for objections, but as usual there was none.

"Put on your helmets, three hours of air. We're shooting to complete in two. Hudson draw the gates." At her signal Finn entered the keys to open the loading bay, the ramp settling into the sandy earth of the planet.

Noah and Finn fixed their rifles against their backs and moved to help the tech team with the equipment. Santana retreated into the cockpit to make a transmission back to New Directions. It was one of the most hated of her duties.

Santana sat in her co-pilot seat and tapped on the keyboard to start the check-in. A small video feed box on the wind screen of the PF lit up and showed the face of the New Direction's navigator, Rachel Berry.

"We're on the surface, next contact at 13:00."

"Very well Santana. Be careful down there. We look forward to your return." The woman beamed over the video call. All Santana was looking for was a message received and her proper title.

"Berry, for the last time. It's Lieutenant Lopez. We're not buddies, this is an official record you idiot."

If Santana hadn't been wearing her helmet she was sure that Berry would be quivering in fear, but each of these check-ins were procedurally done after making initial contact to the planet's surface. Meaning Rachel would never see the angry look on Santana's face.

"Santana, if I may be so bold. You are simply informing the ship that you made it safely to the surface. I don't think that holds to official record standards."

"Whatever, next contact at 13:00"

"Ten-four." Santana smashed the buttons to end the call and made her way out of PF and out onto the surface of the planet.

The heat of the planet radiated around her, even in her cooled suit. The planet was very close to a star, and it was probably the reason that the whole thing was covered in pale sand enveloped in a brownish sky. The lab team was setting up the equipment, her own pair of professional idiots off performing their duties.

On the small screen attached to the arm of her suit, Santana opened the radio channel open only to Finn and Noah. The tech team was probably chatting away at this point and Santana never cared to listen in. Though the nerds could still contact her if need be, thanks to name recognition. That feature also kept gossiping on the job to a minimum, though after a few weeks with the team she also added Satan to her radio's recognition system.

"Hudson, how's the PF lookin?" Santana walked around next to the lab techs, there wasn't much else to do. Watch the nerds and worry about the sand screwing with the ship. Normally she'd be scouting for too curious fauna that would walk into the perimeter.

"Good, there was a bit of sand, but I'm keeping an eye on it." Finn rounded the PF and sent her a thumbs up.

"We're out of here at 13:00, keep that in mind."

"Yes Lieutenant." Noah and Finn chimed together.

It always made her feel good. There was a lack of female leaders in the Republic, and that was mostly due to the machoism of her career. However with Noah and Finn she never faced any problems. Puckerman hated responsibility; he just wanted to be a badass so it was easy enough to keep him controlled. And Finn was forever the dutiful follower.

"Puckerman, you got that perimeter up yet?" Noah was standing in place with his head twisted on his shoulder in confusion.

"Yeah, there's a weird hole over here."

"What kind of weird?" Santana moved away from Zizes and Cohen to where Noah was standing looking down at the ground.

"I dunno it kinda looks like something fell here." He pointed down at the odd indention in the ground with the tip of his rifle.

Santana kneeled to the ground and ran her gloved hand over the deep indention. The hot sand parted and moved like water under her touch. It definitely looked like something was here. A meteor? There was only one way to find out.

"Rutherford."

"Yes Lieutenant?"

"Bring your crap over here and tell me what this is."

Santana stood and watched Matt grab a small case and jog over to her and Noah. If they'd worn the heavy protective gear, there would be no way that the nerd would have done that. Especially in this heat.

Matt peered down at the hole and set the case down. "It looks like something fell."

"Thank you captain obvious. I need something a bit more concrete though, if this planet is privy to getting hailed on by rocks I doubt the Republic is going to want to waste money on setting up a proper atmosphere, especially with this scenery." Santana started to walk away towards the ship leaving Puckerman and Matt to deal with the crater.

Santana turned around to see Finn laying under the loading dock slide. With the shifting sand he didn't need to laying under that thing.

"Finn how many times do I-" A scream blasted over the radio, almost loud enough to be heard through the suit and helmet.

"Matt!" Puckerman shouted over the radio.

Santana whipped around, her gun pressed into her shoulder and fixed on Puckerman and Rutherford. Where there should have been sounds of gun fire there sounds of a struggle.

Noah was lying on the ground, gripping Matt with one hand while he fumbled for his pistol with the other. Then Santana noticed it.

The shiny metal glimmering in the light, blood rolling down the thick blade and pooling in Matt's back where the blade pierced through him.

"Nerds in the PF now!" Santana barked her orders as she ran over to the hole Matt was being dragged into.

Over the radio Santana could hear his pleas and coughing from what she could only guess was blood gurgling from his throat.

Something had Matt's legs, pulling him down into the crater; Puckerman was struggling to pull him up and out. Santana aimed down into the sandy pit and opened fire on whatever had Matt's lower half.

If he was going to die, there was no way a fucking creature was going to keep his body.

The blade in Matt's back retracted from his body with a sick sound of the metal scraping against his spine and ribs. Puck tried to get to him on his feet, but the thing still had a hold on Matt.

Suddenly the ground began shifting under Santana and Noah. Santana jumped back, but Noah was still on his stomach with a firm grip on Matt. The ground opened up showing a heavy blade, she fired down at the base of the hole hoping to hit whatever was holding the weapon.

The barrage of bullets did nothing to stop the blade from slicing through Puckerman's left bicep, severing the link between him and Matt. In the daze of watching Noah's blood burst onto the ground she missed the blade flashing a second time hitting her thigh and knocking her back.

Noah screamed out gripping his shoulder and rolled away from the pit as Matt was sucked down under the sand, Puck's left arm still attached. Santana grabbed the back of Puckerman's suit, pulling him to his feet and throwing his arm around her neck.

"Puck I'm getting you outta here!"

Turning around Santana saw the havoc the hole monsters where reeking on her team. Equipment was being pulled down, Finn was struggling to get an unconscious Lauren to the PF and Tina was watching on in horror at the loading dock. Santana didn't waste any time, dragging Puckerman with her, she kept the ground from opening up underneath Finn and Lauren with a fury of bullets.

Finally the noise the creatures were making settled in her ears over the external speakers. It was muffled from the ground, but the deep growls were more unnerving.

Once in the PF she dropped Puckerman in a seat leaving Tina to properly strap him in and then took Lauren from Finn.

"In the air now!"

Finn hobbled across the cabin to start the engine and take off, while Santana, with her arm tablet, closed the loading bay.

Safely in the air, and the cabin repressurized, Santana threw off her helmet and grabbed a first aid kit from the small store room.

"Puck! Tina take off his helmet." Santana searched through the kit for supplies.

"Puck you hear me?" The man didn't stir or show any sign of hearing her.

Santana wiped at his brow with a cloth; sweat coated his face even though he was cold under her touch. She cut away the shredded fabric of his suit and tied a band above what was left of his arm to slow the blood loss.

"Goddamnit Puck." There was nothing she could do for him in the PF. He needed a proper medic, not her. "Tina check out Lauren."

The girl scampered away from the blood dripping from Noah and over to her superior. Lauren was fine, just knocked out, probably from a heavy case flying through the air from one of the aliens hitting it with its blade.

Tina herself was white as a ghost. She had scrapes, but she wouldn't feel the full effect of her pain until the reality of losing her lover sank in. Santana's chest tightened for the woman, Santana never wanted to feel that pain.

With a last squeeze to Noah's good arm, Santana shifted her weight onto her right left leg and walked into the cockpit. Her bloody fingers ran over keys and brought up the video box. It was taking longer than usual for the connection to establish, probably because they were in flight.

"Finn you ok?" Santana squeezed her own injury, while observing the tightness of Finn's jaw. The blade didn't cut through the suit, but she could feel the blood seeping from her torn flesh.

"I think I broke my leg."

"Santana it is far too early for you to be returning." The woman looked frightened.

"Get me Evans." Santana didn't care why the woman didn't say anything. Maybe it was Noah's blood on her face, maybe it was exhaustion in her eyes. Maybe she heard Finn's omission.

"Yes Santana?" The man's blonde hair looked tussled and he was out of breath.

"Be waiting in the bay. Puckerman lost an arm, Finn's leg is broken, Lauren hit her head I think, Tina's just shaken."

"What about you and Matt?"

"Matt's… dead." Santana swallowed the dryness of her throat and looked over the controls of the cockpit. "We'll be there in fifteen minutes."

She watched Sam nod and jump off screen. After a moment Finn reached over to end the video feed, and let his hand rest on hers for a moment.

His palm was wet and hot. Even under normal circumstance Santana would have thought it to be disgusting. But after what happened, she would allow him this.

"It'll be ok." He retracted his hand after he spoke, placing it firmly on the controls.

"That's what I'm afraid of."

Santana looked back to the cabin to see Noah and Lauren's unconscious bodies and Tina with empty eyes staring at the seat next to Puckerman where Matt would always sit.

|x|X|x|

Quinn's eyes were glassy, not that Santana's were any different.

Quinn may have put forth an air of impenetrable confidence, but the Captain still lost a friend and teammate. Santana could probably expect a much less formal visit later in the evening.

"After hearing your verbal account, I'll have to get Officers Puckerman and Hudson's later, but nonetheless, adhering to standard procedure I have to place you on suspension. Furthermore, due to Officer Puckerman and Hudson's injuries I must pause the Terra Team activities until replacements for Rutherford and a temporary team leader arrives."

Santana bristled, but she expected this. Normally it would have been Noah or Finn to be her temporary replacement, but seeing as she all but got them killed, an outsider was required.

She would be lucky to still have her job, much less her title, when all was said and done.

"You may retire to your quarters Lieutenant." With a swipe to the surface of her tablet Quinn stood from the table of marched through the door.

Every muscle in her back ached. Each cut and bruise abused her nerves. The untreated slice on her thigh throbbed. But the physical pain she endured felt microscopic to the heartache of failing her team. With a heavy exhale Santana pushed herself from the chair and left the empty room.

|x|X|x|

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><p><strong>TBC<strong>

**AN:** Let me know about things and stuff. I've been wanting to write this since... before Contract Pending so I'm excited.

Before anyone attacks me. I don't know proper officer rankings, and I'm not an astrophysicsist. And I know most of my names for things, ex. PF (planetary flyers) are lame as hell. Sue me. I wanted an AU with aliens and Brittana.


	2. The Hot Gates

**Disclaimer: see chapter one**

**AN:** Continuing onward after Santana's interrogation with Quinn.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Two: The Hot Gates<strong>

|x|X|x|

Santana made her way through the narrow corridors of the ship and up the lift to the crew's quarters. She should have stopped by the kitchen, but despite the ache in her stomach she doubted she'd be able to keep anything down.

Mostly she didn't want to run into anyone else.

Dodging through the halls of the New Directions proved to be a bit more difficult when you have a painful gash on the side of your leg. Unfortunately, before she could hide away in her room she does see someone. It was Tina, walking through the corridors like a ghost.

Santana didn't know what to say, much less what to do. So she stopped and waited for Tina to approach her. Tina's empty eyes trailed over her, and all Santana can think to do is nod.

What else could she possibly do for Tina? Coddle her? Tell her everything happens for a reason? That she'll feel better soon. When Santana's father was killed, all the affection she was given was her mother blowing her brains out. At the tender age of seven she learned that no one is going to hold your hand and make it better. You have to do for yourself.

Not to say that Santana didn't feel for Tina. Love was a terrible thing to lose, her mother taught her that lesson. But Santana wasn't the person to be helping anyone. She couldn't even help Matt.

Santana heard the automatic door close to the room Tina, Lauren, and Mercedes shared, prompting her to enter her own room. She locked the door as well, incase someone was going to think about waking her.

Being second in command had its perks, a major one being that she had her own room. Though it was far smaller than any of the other quarters, she wasn't going to complain about her solitary cell.

Santana walked around the room peeling off the top half of her undersuit, flipping down her bed from the wall and retrieving a first aid kit she kept in her locker. She was thankful that she had the strong armor, but the black undersuit to her gear was a chore to take off.

She sat on the bed, kicked off her boots, and carefully pulled the tight material down over her thighs. To make matters worse some of the blood had dried around her cut, causing the flesh to peel away with the suit.

Through grit teeth she was able to pull the sticky material away and finally properly clean her wound. Antiseptic spray was the devil's invention she decided as it bit into her nerves.

The alien's blade had found one of the few spots where her without armor. Her undersuit was pretty tough as well, but it didn't withstand the sharp metal.

Santana would have to toss this pair and pick up another to replace it while she was at Windfall. Tiny black fibers from her undersuit were caught between her torn flesh.

Those fibers were proving to be worse than the spray, but that was probably because she was using her short nails rather than hemostats to pull them out. The cut was wide, and it was at least ten centimeters long. It was more like a gash than anything else. She was definitely going to have major bruising there for a while.

Messing with the wound caused blood to flow freely again. It took five gauze pads to control it. Once the blood stopped pouring out of her, Santana laid two fresh pads over the cut and wrapped it tightly.

She pushed herself up and hopped across the room to her closet. Santana had the liberty to room by herself, even though the quarters could house up to three people. It was mostly due to her aggression and reputation that kept others from wanting to bunk with her. But after spending years trapped in small spaces with no room for personal space, the solitude was welcomed.

Since she was suspended from duty she wasn't going to have to put on her spare undersuit. There was no telling how that would go with her wrap. Santana and the rest of the Terra Team wouldn't be headed to the surface anytime soon.

Sleep was in her primary interest; however nothing she had would be proper to sleep in and at the same time cover her wound. Normally she would forgo any clothing, but after her talk with Quinn she could be expecting another visit. So instead she pulled out a pair of Republic issued cargo pants and a dark tank top.

Santana didn't want the others worrying about her. Not when Finn was out of service with a supposed fractured tibia and Noah was waiting for a solution for his arm.

She felt anguish begin to rear its ugly head, so she took to cleaning up her quarters. Nothing was really out of place, aside from the trash from attending her cut. Living from one institution to another leaves a person with two things: no material possessions and fantastic organizational skills.

Standing the middle of the room with nothing more to do Santana sighed and reached for the small bottle hidden inside her locker. She popped open the bottle and shook out a small blue pill into the palm of her hand. Without much thought she swallows the pill, ignoring the way it sticks to her throat, and pulls back the covers to her bedding.

Santana has always had problems sleeping through the night, ever since she was a child. The addition of muscle cramps, bruises, cuts, and scrapes made it almost impossible for Santana to fall asleep for very long. Thus once she was able to establish a connection with Sam, she always had a supply of strong pain relievers on hand. She even welcomed the drowsy side effect.

As much as she would like to fall face first into her bunk, Santana realizes that the action would probably be counterproductive to the healing process that hadn't actually started yet. Mindful of her leg she crawled between the scratchy sheets and settled down. The cool pillow muffled her thoughts and she let the pill take over.

|x|X|x|

It seems like only a few minutes, but a quick glance to the clock tells her that it's been hours. The door to her room is unlocked with a quiet beep and slides open, meaning that the person stepping into her dark room can be one of two people.

Hummel, who may know his way around a rivet gun, but knows better to fuck with Santana. Or Quinn who doesn't give a shit either way if Santana wants her in here or not.

Quinn's Republic issued boots click on the heated metal flooring as she comes closer to the bunk. Quinn had one of the two copies of the master keys, Kurt having the other for mechanical purposes, and the ownership somehow gave her the authority to use it as she pleased.

"Are you sleeping?"

Santana didn't exactly mind Quinn's company in this setting.

Normally she would be fighting with Quinn, along with Lauren, over mission details. Or just disagreeing with Quinn for the sake of doing it. Getting a rise out of her blonde was always a highlight to her day. But when it was just the two of them, which was rare, Santana would consider it pleasant.

Both women faced many of the same struggles, and were equally driven. Often it would lead to childish feuding, but on occasion the two could confide in each other.

"Santana?" Ignoring the beautiful blonde had never worked for the Lieutenant.

"Not anymore."

Santana cleared her throat, dry from hours of disuse, and sat up on the edge of the bed. The movement caused her to wince as her muscles to spasm around her wound.

"I just thought you'd like to hear a status report."

Quinn sat next to her Lieutenant, whose eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness. Santana could make out Quinn's outline and then the bottled water she was extending.

Santana took the bottle from her companion, fumbling a bit from sleep and brushing her fingers over Quinn's. The brief touch was enough to fully awake Santana.

Harassing Quinn was amusing on more than one level for Santana. And there wasn't anyone else that caught her eye, save for the few times they boarded at an outpost or Republic base. Santana had learned to make do with what she was given long ago.

She was broke from her thoughts as she heard the woman take in a deep breath, readying herself to run through the list of injuries.

"Sam said that Finn's leg will heal in a few days, apparently it wasn't actually broken. Lauren's doing fine, no brain damage or concussions. As for Puck… Evans' got the bleeding under control, he lost enough blood to get a transfer. Now we're just waiting on that stupid machine to download and temp out a replacement."

"You mean he's going to have a robotic arm?" Santana took a long gulp from the bottle. It was good to know that everyone would be okay. Physically at least.

"Yeah. I feel bad for him. I hear that they itch real bad for a long time."

"Don't. That thing is going straight to his head." Santana took another gulp from the bottle, and put the cap back on.

No doubt Puck would be parading his new arm and new pick up lines within the week.

"Thanks for the water."

"Don't mention it." Quinn took a long breath in and dropped her hand on Santana's uninjured leg. Though it didn't cause any physical pain, Santana still sucked in her breath at the contact.

"Are you ok? I know you didn't get hurt. But this…" The hand on Santana's leg tightened, causing her to flutter her eyes close in the darkness.

Santana may not have of been best friends with Matt, but after four years you get to know a person. Matt was a great guy, and he didn't deserve what happened to him.

"I'm dealing with it."

The last thing Santana wanted was to be sent off to some shrink. It was a good thing that she's had plenty of experience with death. Matt was a friend, but she wasn't going to be stricken with grief for the rest of her life.

"I know during the interrogation that I made it out to be your fault, but you know that was all procedure right?" Quinn's hand slid off Santana's leg to capture Santana's scraped hand bunched in the sheets between the women. "None of this is your fault Santana. You did all you could."

"I know. I just… wish I could have done something to save him."

Santana's thoughts were muddled by Quinn's actions. She did her best to keep a level head and not break the frail link between them.

"You did your best Santana. Now we're going to the base at Windfall, picking up our new team mate and your temporary replacement, and finishing the job. That's what Matt would want."

"Yeah he wouldn't want us running away from a mission." Santana's gaze fell to their hands. Quinn had never crossed the boundaries between them.

Quinn was her superior, and though Santana couldn't deny her Captain was attractive, whether her attention was welcomed had yet to be seen.

From what Santana could tell, all Quinn was needing was a reason to reach out. Something to give reason for her sudden affections to her Lieutenant. As bad as it sounded maybe Matt's death wouldn't be in vain. He was always telling her she needed to get laid.

It was a given that the team would go back down, fully prepared, and kick some serious ass. But now, like some fucked up added bonus, it seemed like there was a chance in the burning pits of a cold hell that Quinn might be a willing participant in Santana's fantasies.

It was selfish, but for Santana Lopez, that's all she knew.

Santana was attracted to her Captain undoubtedly, however, that's all Santana could feel for another person. Today's mission was proof enough. Santana could never bring herself to hurt someone like that, much less let herself be hurt.

"And I know that it might be asking too much, but will you play nice with your stand-in?"

Santana glared at the clock across the room. Some hot shot douche bag was going to hop on her ship and lead her team to bring about Matt's vengeance? And she was supposed to go along with it with a smile on her face?

No fucking way.

"For me?" Quinn squeezed and released her hand and then promptly stood. Santana immediately missed the contact. "And yourself. It would look better on paper if you helped complete the mission you know."

Santana nodded, but it did nothing for her anger. She had no choice in the matter. It was her job on the line. Which wasn't the best, but it was all she knew. Santana wouldn't say that she was friends with everyone on the ship, but she was attached to them on some level.

It would suck to have that taken away.

The very least, all Santana Lopez had in this empty universe was the title attached to her name.

|x|X|x|

The gates of the lift opened to the third level of the ship, otherwise known to Santana as the galley. The labs and infirmary were on this level too. Santana avoided the labs as much as possible. They smelled funny and the nerds were always nagging her not to touch anything.

However she did make trips to the infirmary to see Sam. Whether the meaning of the trip was to tease him or get a refill varied day to day.

The New Directions was headed on a course destined to a Republic controlled station, W19F477, or Windfall as it was commonly referred to. The trip was about four days one way. Santana slept most of the day, and it was now dinner time on the ship. She wasn't sure why she was so tired. Instead of dwelling on it, she blamed her leg and got dressed to eat.

Most of the crew was sitting along the giant table eating. As she stepped into the mess hall the sounds shifted into mummers, the mood visibly dropping.

Santana was prepared for this type of behavior. She had been on the giving end of it when her first Captain let them drift in open space for weeks. Santana was sure the sour mood would lift once Puck was up and about. Now it was just her time to receive the blames, they'd pass in time once the record was straight. Squaring her shoulders, she spared no one a glance and stalked past them to fetch herself a helping of whatever the hell Mercedes tried to make today.

She did notice that Finn was sitting at the table with Rachel and Kurt. Rachel was spoon feeding the Lieutenant's pilot. So as Santana walked behind them she gave Finn a good slap to the back of his head.

"Your arms aren't broken Hudson."

Kurt snickered, but Finn and Rachel weren't as amused. Finn wiped at his chin and the tiny navigator spun in her chair to squawk at the Lieutenant.

"Mind you Santana, Finn smashed his finger while fighting those things off!" Rachel slammed down the spoon and stomped off towards the lavatory leaving behind curious stares in her wake.

"Whatever, Hudson stop acting like a baby." Finn mumbled out a yes ma'am, and Santana continued onward to get something in her growling stomach. She hadn't had a proper meal since before the mission.

Mercedes was cleaning up the kitchen and putting away the leftovers to store in the giant freezers when Santana entered.

"Hey Santana, let me heat you up a plate." The woman set about her task. Mercedes and Santana had developed a give and take relationship. So when the woman offered to make a plate for her, Santana knew that the older woman wanted something.

That something probably had to do with Matt Rutherford's untimely death. Or worse, how Santana was feeling about it.

Santana wasn't in the mood to play story teller, nor did she want the older woman to try and comfort her.

Santana was fine.

She felt remorse for the lost of her comrade, but she didn't need anyone to tell her everything would be alright.

"How you holding up girl?" Mercedes handed over her plate of reheated food, but she clearly wanted an answer.

"Fine. You know you don't have to serve tots with every meal." Santana sat her plate down on the counter to look through the cooler for something to drink.

It was always the same three things. Water, some type of sugary purple drink, and milk. The Republic didn't provide the ranks with alcohol, which made sense on an administrative level, but Santana was getting tired of Noah's black market liquor.

"You seem to be the only one who is."

Mercedes pushed Santana out of the way and handed her usual choice of water.

"Honestly I don't care if you're just bottling all that pain up inside you. If you be scream'n at night and punch'n walls to deal with what you done, do it. What I care about my girl Tina. She's in a world of hurt right now and she don't need nobody add'n to it. Get me?"

Santana was caught off guard by the sudden anger from the short woman. A person she had considered a friend, but clearly had alliances elsewhere.

A cold frigid disposition was put in place immediately. Santana was ready for some unsavory behavior, but not this direct line of blame. She'd done all she could for Matt.

"If you want to be keeping that finger I suggest you get it out of my face." Santana raised her eyebrow to challenge the other woman, and slowly Mercedes stepped away from her. Santana spun around and collected her tray and bottle.

Walking back out into the mess hall everyone's head turned away when Santana entered. The little spat clearly had their attention. Santana glowered at them and sat at the far end.

Apparently the entire crew was now blaming her for the death of their friend. Her lukewarm meal was evidence enough. Never mind the hostile stares from everyone still in the mess hall.

Santana took to eating as quickly as she could. The atmosphere had turned cold, and she didn't particularly want to be in the company of Rachel, Kurt, Mercedes, or anyone else that wasn't there for the fight on the surface.

As she ate, Santana exchanged glares with Rachel and Mercedes, silently willing their heads to implode.

The air behind her swirled. Santana caught the smell of lilacs, before she heard a soft but firm voice in her ear.

"Remember what we talked about last night Lieutenant." Quinn marched past Santana towards the kitchen, leaving a shiver in her blood.

Shaking off her chill, Santana slid her tray to Finn. She didn't trust herself to drop it off in the kitchen. "Take care of that for me Hudson. I've got to check on Puckerman."

Finn nodded while Rachel huffed. Though neither of them should be complaining, even if she had failed Matt; Puck owed her his life.

|x|X|x|

Santana rounded the corner from the cafeteria into the infirmary wing, and stepped into the bright white décor. It was a glaring difference from the rest of the ship.

The New Directions wasn't an old ship and it was kept updated by Kurt. But it was still a Republic star ship, meaning it wasn't all glitz and glamour. Pipes carrying fluids, air, and wires covered most of the walls of the corridors. The metal had nothing more than a shiny sealer applied to it, aside from the color coordination of the pipes. The gray color palate didn't bother Santana. She was able to see enough colors on the planets they scouted, and she favored the simple scheme.

It was reassuring and familiar of the dorms she had lived in from her youth into young adulthood.

Doctor Sam Evans wasn't sitting at his desk, like Santana normally found him at. Which meant he was probably with Puckerman behind one of the few white curtains lining the far wall of the room.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you!" Noah shouted from the corner bed, and Sam scampered out from the curtain with a huge grin on his face.

"Ah Lieutenant… what are you-"

"Why do you have clippers in your hand?" Santana looked curiously at the buzzer dangling between his fingers.

"I just… Finn dared me to buzz off Puck's Mohawk."

Santana pressed her lips into a firm line.

"Don't you think he's under enough stress as is?"

Shaving Noah's head had been a game the three men have been playing for a very long time. Though, with the victim of the shaving unconscious, it didn't seem fair.

"He's fine." Sam walked around Santana towards a row of cabinets and stored the clippers inside one of them. "He's actually just waking up."

"How did everything go?"

Santana pushed aside her annoyance. Noah was a big boy, he could deal with Sam later.

"Well, I wouldn't suggest he enter any arm wrestling tournaments for a few days. But he's fine."

"Evans! Come and unstrap me so I can strangle you!" Noah shouted above the noise of his struggles against the restraints keeping him firm in the cot.

"I'm going to calm him down. And I'd suggest you not be around when I let him go."

Santana grinned at Sam's panicked face as he sat at his desk, and walked over to the curtain shielding Puckerman from the rest of the room.

"Oh you're gonna get it so- Santana? Where's that blonde freak?" Noah strained to look around her for the target of his aggression.

"He tucked tail and ran." Santana kicked the rolling stool next to the bed and sat down. "How are you feeling?"

"I don't know, weird I guess. The drugs are making stuff fuzzy you know? Not that I'm complaining." Puck stared down at his new arm, covered by a white cloth.

Santana joined him for a moment. There were tiny droplets of blood marring the white cloth where the robotic arm attached to Noah's left shoulder. Apparently they removed the rest of his arm to affix a better performing unit.

Santana shook out of her stupor to release Puck from his bindings. She's seen plenty of robotic arms and legs. This one was no different, well it was slightly different. It was a piece of Puck now.

A new piece of an old friend.

"Thanks Lopez." Puck moved slowly to sit at the edge of the bed, his right hand holding the cloth over his polymer appendage. What was left of his Mohawk fell down to the floor.

"You test it out yet?" Santana looked down to the twitching gray fingers uncovered by the cloth now.

"No. What should I do? I feel like this should be an important move."

"You still pissed about your baldness?"

Puck just glared at Santana in response. His Mohawk was his livelihood basically, where women were concerned at least.

"Alright then. Evans, hurry up over here. You're needed." Santana smiled at Puck and he knew exactly what she offered him.

"Yeah what?" Sam stood at the foot of bed warily looking between the grinning pair.

Santana grabbed Sam's jacket sleeve, and pulled in closer to Noah in one quick move. "Puck needs to test out his arm."

Before Sam could ask how, Noah dropped the cloth covering his arm and drew it back to send an open palm flying to Sam's cheek. The dull gray polymer hand popped against soft flesh, and the impact knocked Sam backwards a few steps.

"That's fucking pay back!" Puckerman used his proven, fully functioning arm to high five Santana.

"You guys are assholes!" Sam rubbed his reddening cheek and stalked away from the laughing pair. The doctor dropped down at his desk and mumbling to himself.

Noah, more brazen now, hopped off the cot, pumping his robotic fist in the air. A wave of nausea hit him and Santana shot up to catch him before he slumped to the ground. She shoved him back to the bed, forcing him to lay down.

"One thing at a time idiot."

Puck nodded noticing the tiny droplets of blood that started around the connection.

"Evans is this thing supposed to be bleeding?"

Sam worked his jaw for a moment. "Yeah, it's still fresh. Maybe someone shouldn't of slapped me."

Noah glared across the room, "Maybe someone shouldn't of shaved my fucking head!"

Santana slapped his leg. "Calm down, you got him back."

"How's everybody else?" Noah settled against the pillows, still glaring at Sam.

"As good as they'll ever be. Finn didn't break his leg. Lauren's got a thick skull apparently."

Puck softened into a hushed tone. "I mean, how they taking Matt?"

"I haven't really talked to anyone. Tina's screwed, but you know. Though everybody seems to be blaming me."

"What? Dude, just ignore 'em." Noah shrugged and ran his hand over the newly exposed skin on his head.

Noah had long since been a part of her rational mind since they were seven. Whether that was a good or bad thing, Santana had yet to find out. Nevertheless, she appreciated his reassurance.

"Right. Since you're good, I'm gonna go. But tomorrow we're practicing shooting. Who knows what changed with that new arm."

"I could always slap'em to death."

Santana rolled her eyes and pushed the chair away from the bed. "Get your rest, we'll be at Windfall in three days."

"Wait, why?"

"Replacements. I've been suspended, so you'll have a new superior for a while… I don't know how long yet. That's part of the reason for going to Windfall."

"You're still Miss Boss Lady to me."

Santana didn't say anything, she just smiled and left. Her detour with Noah pushed back her scheduled work out in the recreation room. Just because she was suspended doesn't mean she won't be chasing aliens again.

|x|X|x|

The next day Santana and Puck find that his aim has shifted to the right slightly. They spent most of the day in the recreation room adjusting his aim on the virtual shooting range.

The rec room was a multi-purpose room. It had the standard exercise equipment for the Republic Star Ships, along with the necessities of a militarized unit. Most of which were virtual, like the shooting range.

There was also a foosball table, a popular past time within the ranks of the Republic, as well as a video game system. The room was most used by Santana, Quinn, Noah, and Finn; though it was open to the entire crew.

Santana and Puck stopped shooting only for a brief lunch and heading to the infirmary to get Sam to make small adjustments on the arm periodically.

Santana didn't want to talk to anyone else, and the impending replacement slash suspension was causing her frustration. So it was good to be distracted by the shooting range and Puck's crude comments.

During the afternoon Finn stopped by for a while. Even thought Noah's robotic arm has him thrown off he's still able to mop the floor with Finn. There were reasons why Finn was left to piloting, shooting was one of many.

At dinner Santana entered the mess hall with Noah. It's was relief for Santana to finally be able to sit down for a while. Her injury was still fresh, and she could feel the blood soaking in the gauze. She hadn't had time to steal away without raising suspicion.

The crew gave Puck words of encouragement, but they still kept their distance from Santana.

"Don't worry, they'll come around." Puck whispered to her as they leave to return to the rec room, continuing their virtual practice.

Santana knows that they just need someone to blame. Puckerman got his arm hacked off, so he visibly gave his all to save Matt. Finn kept the nerds out of trouble, so he was a hero in his own right.

Santana on the other hand had no injury, that she'd let them know of, and though she pulled Puck from the clutches of the monsters she couldn't save Matt too. Being the commanding officer placed the blame on her as well.

She could deal with it. She expected it from the Republic higher ups. She just didn't expect the people she's been sharing the same recycled air with for four years would cast her out so quickly. And moreso, that it actually bothered her.

Santana took her frustration out on Noah. Critiquing him harsher than usual and snapping at the stupid computer system's ART system.

"Dude, I get that ladies get all hormonal and shit, but the little dude's a computer. You can't hurt his feelings Santana."

The ART manifested itself as hologram of young man with thick rimmed glasses and a bowl cut. Santana never understood Puck's affection to the thing. She wasn't sure if Noah was crazy for talking to the ART like it was a person, but she was sure it couldn't be healthy.

Some of the crew members thought it as funny to treat it as part of the crew, giving the computer system the nickname of Artie. Though most everyone _talked _to Artie, they didn't do so on the same level Noah participated in conversation with it.

"This is true Lieutenant Lopez. May I suggest that you and Officer Puckerman end for the day? I'm sure it will be beneficial for his arm."

"We'll stop when he's hitting aces." Santana tapped Noah's human arm, ordering him to shoulder the heavy plastic rifle.

Noah emptied his clip. In a total fluke each bullet was perfectly placed on the center of the target.

Puck dropped the rifle with a smirk. "Is that good enough Lieutenant?"

Santana frowned at his accident, but she was just as bored with this as Noah was.

"You're dismissed."

Santana took the rifle from Noah and sat it in the rack next to the three others. Puck pulled on his jacket and started to walk out of the rec room with the ART hovering closely behind him.

"Yo Artie man, tell Evans and Hudson that its poker time." Santana slid her dark red vest back on over her now sweaty white undershirt.

Santana debated what to do with the rest of her night. Usually she would be held up in the bridge with Quinn and Lauren discussing the details of the next phase of the mission, but since she was suspended and they were traveling to Windfall at the moment, there wasn't much to do.

Her room was literally just around the corner from the rec room, but so was the bathhouse. Sleep or a hot shower? Santana decided that getting her wound wet probably wasn't a good thing, and she never really had the chance to sleep for very long.

She took the short route to her room; changed out of her clothes, and with help from the tiny blue pills in her locker she fell into a deep sleep with the sense of something foreboding in store for her at Windfall.

|x|X|x|

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>

**AN:** Let me know about things and stuff. Fun fact, originally I was going to kill off Artie in the beginning. Instead I used Matt and made Artie the computer system.


	3. The Substitutes

**Disclaimer: see chapter one**

**AN:** I start up school again this week, so I'm going to do my best for weekly updates. Also check out the ending AN for this chapter, I put a character break down to clarify.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three: The Substitutes<strong>

|x|X|x|

"Lieutenant Lopez…"

Artie's hologram sparked to life in the dim corner of Santana's room. A grunt from the woman currently changing into her rarely used Republic dress uniform was all the response she cared to give the annoying computer system.

"Captain Fabray requests to speak to you before we land at the Republic base W19-F477."

Artie disappeared from her room without another word.

At least the thing learned not to seek long winded conversation from her. Even with the crew at odds with her and Quinn busy with calls to the base, Santana refused to stoop so low as to talk to the ship's ART system.

Standing in front of the mirror, Santana checked for any flaws.

Her thick dark hair was in a tight bun and her solid black dress uniform perfectly pressed. The only thing that stood out was the lump on her thigh.

Santana smoothed over the lump on her leg created from the gauze padding. Her leg had yet to heal with the four days it took to travel to Windfall. The cut was proving to be deeper than she thought. Each hour spent in the exercise room with Noah pushed back any headway she had made towards the stab wound healing. It needed stitching, but she couldn't bother Sam with it now.

Asides from the lump, Santana looked rather snotty in her uniform. She always enjoyed wearing it. Santana was a bit of a show off after all. Puck would usually join her, but he always found the uniform pleasant for different reasons. Those reasons usually being the large breasted, airy headed women that flocked to the sight of a Republic Officer uniform. Santana had about the same reaction, but the silver stripes on her shoulders did give her a feeling of pride.

Becoming Lieutenant was a high accomplishment for her. She didn't need anyone else's approval. All Santana needed to know was that she was doing a damn good job; anyone with a different opinion could fuck off. That included the women, and men who couldn't take the hint, at the military outposts that threw themselves at her extra stripes. They were far from amusing, and more often scum, although Puck told her to stop turning down every pretty face.

Her last relationship was years ago, if it could even be considered that. What was more concerning for Santana was the definite lack of another person in her sex life. Flying solo was meant as a survival mechanism, not a way of life.

Grabbing her issued hat with a United People's Republic crest, she shook off her thoughts. The trip to the base was official business. She had to be on top of her game today, not worrying about getting laid.

Once last look to convince herself that the lump was barely noticeable, Santana made her way out of her room and to the bridge.

|x|X|x|

The gates of the lift opened behind the Captain's chair and the rest of the control panels. The entire front wall of the bridge was nothing more than a screen showing the outside world. It was the only place on the ship to see outside, which usually was darkness but now it was abrupt in lights of Windfall.

Santana stepped towards the Captain and into the warm heat of the room, due to amount of servers with their blinking lights and the cooling pipes running along the walls.

"Santana, over here." Quinn's voice clipped, and Santana tore her glaze from the scene of Windfall to move in front of the Captain's chair; finding Rachel pecking away at the helm, and more surprisingly Lauren leaning on the railing.

"Now that you're both here." Quinn pasted an annoyed look towards Santana, before settling into the back of the oversized chair.

"New Directions is to report to General Figgins. General Figgins is assigning a new technical specialist, as well as a temporary Terra Team Leader. Lauren after the General assigns the new team member I'd like you to personally escort them back to the ship."

Quinn looked up from the screen of her tablet and quickly added, "take Tina too. She needs to get out of her room."

"Is that all?"

Santana rolled her eyes at Lauren's complete disregard for Quinn's authority.

"Yes, go prepare yourself."

Lauren wasn't considered by Santana as an officer, but the oman was nonetheless a Sergeant. She wasn't even in dress to appear before a high ranking officer.

Santana was brought out of her head by Quinn's soft touch on her shoulder. The Captain had climbed out the chair and was now leaning against the railing next to Santana overlooking the helm looking strangely at Rachel.

"You really need to be on your best behavior." Santana glanced over to Rachel. Apparently the younger woman was oblivious to their conversation. The girl had long since learned not to speak up in the middle of whatever she and Quinn would talk about.

"What does that mean? You think I'm going in there guns-a-blazen?" Santana shook off the hand, taking a step back.

"Santana, you know what I mean. I-_You_ need to treat whoever replaces you with respect. There's no need to be a hothead. It doesn't look like the Republic is going to demote you, but there's no harm saving face, right?"

"Yeah mom."

Quinn reclaimed her seat, looming over both Rachel and Santana.

"And tell Puckerman not to be gallivanting about."

"You tell Berry to be less annoying." Santana smirked at the two huffs she received on her way back down the lift.

|x|X|x|

Outside the General's office sitting on a long bench the four women waited for their meeting with Figgins. Santana was flanked by Quinn and Lauren, Tina sitting next to the nerd. The young woman clearly had issues with talking to Santana, despite Santana's well placed hellos. The girl would come around soon enough.

Once the ship landed at Windfall Quinn wasted no time ordering the crew around and dragging Santana and Lauren into the commanding officer's chambers within the base.

Windfall was a large, high traffic Republic base. Situated between two massive colonies, and within a week's travel of the Republic's headquarters, loving called The Capital. Even the hallway where Santana sat exuded the military's power.

The hall was ornate and lavish with painting of commanding officers. The largest of the few being Commanding General Sue Sylvester, although Santana's focus was on the two people that sneaked into General Figgins' office a few minutes ago.

Quinn had Santana staring down at her officer file on the Captain's tablet. The short glimpse offered Santana to only see two tall dark Republic uniforms, but nothing more.

A large woman shuffled from the General's office waving Santana and Quinn into the room. Lauren and Tina were to wait outside for the new specialist.

Inside the large office the General was sitting behind a heavy wooden desk with a small smile on his face. Santana's eyes snapped to the two officers standing off to the side of the General's desk.

"Captain Fabray, Lieutenant Lopez. Please come in, sorry about your wait."

The New Directions officers saluted the General and took the two seats offered in front of the desk. Santana made no attempt to hide the fact she was scanning the two officers, trying to identify her replacement.

The taller of the two, dark hair and skin, was a mere private and would no doubt be Matt's replacement. The man's strong features complimented his air of confidence; Santana could hope that she'd have no problems with the young man.

The shorter woman, who still towered over Santana and Quinn, had her blonde hair in a tight bun similar to Santana's and Quinn's with her hat neatly tucked under her arm. The woman was staring directly at Santana. If Santana hadn't had the white hot rage surging through her veins, the woman's blue laser gaze would have unnerved her.

"Captain Fabray, this is Private Michael Chang. He will be the new addition to your team. Michael is fresh out of training, but I assure you he will not be a hindrance."

"I look forward to working with you Captain." The man nodded stiffly, Santana caught the brief grin flash over the blonde's face. Maybe the two knew each other?

"Very good." Quinn questioned towards the General. "I have my Terra Sergeant waiting outside to escort the Private to the ship when dismissed."

The main reason they were reporting to the General was because Santana was going to be drilled. Or at least find out what the hell the Republic was going to do with her. The fewer people present the better. At least she would have one person on her side, considering the small smile that hadn't left the blonde woman's face, she surely wasn't going to be helping her case.

"Ah, yes Chang you're dismissed."

Mike clicked his heels and left the room with a quiet slide of the door.

"Captain, this is Lieutenant General Brittany Pierce. Lieutenant Lopez's replacement until we sort out this issue. She has been filling in as a temporary Terra Team leader for close to three years now?"

The blonde nodded to the General's question, and flashed a bright smile to Quinn.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both."

The greeting left Santana clutching her hat and a dry mouth.

Quinn saw the pang of anger stir in her Lieutenant. "How long will Lieutenant Pierce be aboard New Directions?"

"Until it is decided what to do with Lieutenant Lopez, Lieutenant Pierce will be taking over her duties." The General shuffled across the screen on his desk. No doubt the man had a terrible time remembering which files to have open.

Santana scoffed at the general's lack of professionalism. Why even call her in the office if he hadn't even finalized her punishment? She scoffed and leaned back in her chair. "And just what are we doing with Lieutenant _Lopez_ as of now?"

"Lieutenant Lopez, you must realize that the mission's statement and video logs reveal very little of what actually happened to Matthew Rutherford. As of now you are suspended, though after the Tribunal Court addresses the case I can not say what will become of you."

"This is ridiculous!" Santana jumped to her feet, Quinn yanking at her sleeve ordering her to sit.

"No Quinn. What happened on ASTOR-3 was a fucking accident. You want to blame someone? Then blame that alien that stabbed Matt and dragged him under the sand."

Santana leaned across the General's desk, pointing a finger towards the man. "Blame those things for ripping off my teammate's arm and destroying over half of our lab equipment. Not me."

"Lieutenant, I highly suggest you compose yourself and take a seat." The General's tone lowered. Santana clenched her jaw and slowly stepped back to her seat and chanced a sideways glance to the blonde woman showed a look of shock.

Quinn muttered through her teeth and pulled at the back of Santana's uniform. "Santana sit down."

She did as ordered, with a look of disdain on her face targeted at the Lieutenant General. The woman may have not of caused any of this, but she was the manifestation of the whole fucking problem.

"Now Lieutenant, I understand your frustration. But this is out of my hands. The destruction must be looked into. This does bring me to my next point though."

Quinn's eyed the General curiously. Santana mused that she must had not been told of a secondary reason for the meeting.

"As you can see, Captain Fabray, this incident has muddled your team's rationale. Therefore, New Directions is removed from the ASTOR-3 mission."

"What? How can you not let us finish this?"

"Captain Fabray, I understand that you wish to _set the record straight_. However, whatever beasts there are on the planet have proved too much for the size of your team. You are re-assigned to ASTOR-4 to complete the PCIU mission there."

"ASTOR-4? That's nothing more than a hunk of space rock."

"Well that's for you to find out." The General clapped his hands. "Now, you're all dismissed. I expect you to treat Lieutenant General Pierce with respect. Anything less and you will be reprimanded."

Quinn jumped to her feet, quickly giving a salute and marching through the door followed closely by Santana.

Behind her, Santana heard the exchanged between the General and the blonde woman.

"Good luck Brittany, say hello to your father for me."

Of course the woman would be friends with the fucking General. Santana's pause near the door allowed Quinn the time to march far ahead of her. Quinn was uncharacteristically stomping through the hall, so fast that Santana was having trouble keeping up. That is until a shout stopped them.

"Hey, I thought you guys were leaving without me." The blonde woman hurried towards them.

Quinn apologized and started back down the hallway to the lift. Santana kept her mouth shut, eyeing the woman dangerously as the Lieutenant General stood on Quinn's right side. The Captain punched the key to the lift after the doors opened to let the trio inside.

Once inside the tall blonde spoke over the uncomfortable silence. "Um, I just want to let both of you know I'm not trying to replace anyone."

"Please excuse me Lieutenant General Pierce, but I didn't know we were reassigned." Quinn nudged Santana in the ribs.

"Yeah… no hard feelings."

"Oh you guys can just call me Brittany. Lieutenant General Pierce is a mouthful." The woman giggled to ease the tension inside the lift as it lowered to the level where the ships were docked. Santana studied the woman in the reflection of the polished shiny metal. Brittany Pierce had a tiny smile locked in place and was toying with her hat in her hands.

"Really though, I'll be out of your hair before you know it." Through the reflection Santana could see the blonde's face fall.

The gates opened to a whirl of noise. People were wandering about on the loading docks, vehicles were driving about carrying fuel and supplies to the hundreds of ships. Santana stepped out of the lift quickly, waiting on Quinn.

The Lieutenant General shouted over the noise. "Where are you docked?"

"G-3. We'll be leaving at 19:00, do you need someone to help you with your belongings?" Quinn looked over to Santana briefly.

Santana would rather spend an afternoon listening to Kurt go over the finer details of the ship's specs, than help her replacement move her shit onto the ship.

"I'm fine. See you then." The lift gates closed and the blonde disappeared from view.

Finally with a moment alone Santana nudged Quinn's arm as they waded through the large crowd.

"What the fuck are we supposed to do now? They're gonna be pissed!"

"I don't know. Who even fucking picked up ASTOR-3?"

A low chuckle had Santana spinning on her heels. She turned around to face a man with dark, heavily gelled hair.

"Well if it isn't Santana Lez-pez."

"It's Lopez, isosceles." Santana mocked the shorter man's eyebrows. "And what the fuck do you want Anderson?"

She hadn't seen the man since officer training. Even all those years ago, Santana did not care for Blaine Anderson. Needless to say the feeling was mutual.

"Ooh I just heard you lamenting about losing the ASTOR-3 mission." Blaine turned to his lackies, with a mocking heartfelt expression.

"They gave it to the Warblers?" Quinn finally tapped into the argument, standing behind Santana.

Santana had been proud to learn that term after term; the New Directions PCIU had topped the charts with their marks. They may have not had a large team, but they had the most intelligent techs and with Santana's and Quinn's leadership they were able to power through mission after mission. They were the most productive Terra Team. However they did lack firepower and the Warblers provided just that. Where the New Directions was a calculated sniper shot, the Warblers were a scattered shotgun blast.

"Well after I heard that Lieutenant Lopez of the New Directions got half her team killed, we had to step in and uphold justice."

Santana let the wall holding back the rage that had been building all day fall down.

Giving a quick chuckle in the few words of Spanish she still remembered from her father, Santana launched herself at the man in front of her. Her left fist made contact with Blaine's jaw, knocking him to the ground. She managed to send down a second punch before Quinn and one of the Warblers pushed her off of the smaller man.

"I can see why you need to be replaced." Blaine wiped the blood from his lip, making eye contact with Quinn. "Captain Fabray, if you ever need a real lieutenant you know who to call."

"That's it, you're fucking dead!"

The only thing holding Santana back from pummeling the arrogant bastard were Quinn's arms locked around her waist.

"Santana stop."

Her Captain's hushed orders in her ear stilled her, but didn't extinguish the flames behind her eyes. The little tiff was enough to abuse the gash on Santana's thigh, and without the threat of a fight she was able to feel every pulse of heat from the wound.

"Come on Santana." Quinn picked up Santana's hat and pulled the woman's sleeve towards the dock where the ship sat waiting.

|x|X|x|

A few hours later, after Quinn had been satisfied with the state of the supplies, the entire crew of the New Directions was gathered in the loading bay of the ship's underbelly.

Quinn, standing in the center of the group, had just announced the new mission. The Terra Team had not taken the news well. The other crew members seemed more so upset at the lost chance to get revenge for Matt.

Finn shouted about the complaining, "wait who the hell they'd give ASTOR-3 to?"

Santana, dressed now in her usual white shirt and red Republic issued vest, sidled next to Quinn's side. The crew's angry faces, asides from Chang's confused one, bored into her.

"My fist found out they reassigned the mission to the Warblers."

Santana held up her bruised knuckles, causing Sam to shuffle over to her. She hoped that her misplaced anger would regain her some confidence from the crew.

Puck spoke up over the gossip.

"You mean they gave it to Captain Wesley and his handbag of idiots?" Santana nodded and they began exchanging strong words of damnation for the Warblers' crew.

"Hey, everyone calm down." Once Quinn had everyone's attention she continued.

"This is what we're going to do. First we're going to complete out assignment at ASTOR-4, there can't be that much to do there. Once we complete that, I'll lobby with General Figgins to get us back on ASTOR-3."

"I think I can help with that."

Everyone whirled around to see a tall blonde on the edge of the loading bay. It was Brittany, other than being Santana's current source of rage, the woman had a face that one wouldn't soon forget.

The woman approached the crew carrying a single duffel over her shoulder. Changed out of dress uniform, the woman seemed much more carefree than before. Santana would peg her as an innocent civilian even despite the military issued boots and jacket.

Sam questioned Santana who the woman was, and she muttered out that she was the Lieutenant General to replace her.

"Figgins owes me a few favors." Brittany dropped her bag to the ground. "But Captain Fabray is right; we should complete the ASTOR-4 mission first."

Lauren pushed through the crowd sneering at the blonde woman. "And just who the hell are you Barbie?"

For once Santana was agreeing with the nerd's screw off attitude. Lauren had always been quick to pick fights with her. Now that it was directed elsewhere, Santana was more than happy to scowl along with the Sergeant.

Quinn quickly moved from Santana's side to stand next to Brittany. "This is our temporary Terra Team leader, Lieutenant General Brittany Pierce. Everyone treat her as you would Santana."

Noah and Finn let out a shared chuckle, earning a glare from Quinn.

"Well with that settled, and our new members aboard- Welcome to the New Directions." Quinn pointed to the Chang man standing next to Tina and Brittany at her side.

"Let's get in the air people!"

Rachel scurried over to the lift along with Kurt, who closed the loading bay, while Santana waited for Quinn and the rest of the crew to dissipate.

Quinn said that Santana was to show Lieutenant Pierce to her quarters. She wondered where Quinn was assigning the woman to sleep, since most of the rooms were full.

"Santana," Quinn motioned to the bag at Brittany's feet. "Take Lieutenant Pierce and her bag up to your quarters."

Santana already had the heavy bag over her shoulder, swearing that she did not hear her Captain correctly. She turned to face Quinn with a cross look.

"Not only is there no were else to put her, your room is the only one with the resources for the Lieutenant." Quinn commanded in a firm tone. Santana opened her mouth to argue, but Quinn cut her off.

"I won't have any problems with the arrangement, it's final. Both of you meet me in the bridge at 09:00 tomorrow for a mission debriefing."

Santana felt her head whirl. Sure her room had all the files saved to the computer system, and the hard copies, but surely Quinn could see how stupid it was to put her in a room with someone she literally hated.

The heavy bag was lifted from her shoulder, placed onto Brittany's shoulder. "Yes, Captain. And don't worry we'll be best friends soon enough."

Santana was about to disagree but the taller woman slapped her back, shoving her in the direction of the lift. Not that it would have mattered. Quinn was already talking to Lauren. Santana shrugged off the hand that was still attached to the back of her vest, and hit the button to the lift.

"Santana- I can call you that right?"

"I'd prefer Lieutenant Lopez."

Santana was growing angry that the airy blonde had a higher title than her. In fact, everything from the way the blonde allowed her hair to fall carelessly over her shoulders, to the way she tied her boots irked Santana. There was just something unsettling about the blonde. Santana wasn't quite sure, but it was pissing her off.

"Okay, Lieutenant Lopez, I get you hate me and stuff."

Santana held open the gate for the woman, begrudgingly obeying Quinn's silent commands to play nice.

"But I'm really not here to steal your job. In fact to do mine, I actually need a lot of your help."

The lift gates shut with a metallic click. "Well I guess you're going to be doing a shitty job."

The sound of the heavy duffel falling to the metal flooring of the lift reverberated through the small space. Santana's head whipped around to face the blonde woman who was much closer than Santana anticipated.

"Lieutenant, I'm trying to be nice. If you want do things the hard way that's fine with me." Brittany's icy stare tore through Santana, and she felt herself take a step back from the lowered tone.

"As your superior I require your full cooperation. And I will have your cooperation. _It's your choice whether you give it willingly or not. Understood?_"

Santana stammered out a yes ma'am, taken completely by surprise by the officer's sudden intensity. After the exchange the blonde woman reverted back to her previous demeanor of aloofness, twirling a lock of golden hair while they waited.

Santana was sure that she lost her sanity. This woman was proving more of a challenge than she thought.

They stood in an awkward silence until the lift gates opened on the second level of the ship.

"So Lieutenant Lopez, where's our bunk." Santana followed the woman out of the lift, directing her to the door just right to the lift.

"Uh the toilets are around the corner, and the exercise equipment is in the rec room." Santana pointed to the door further down the narrow hall from hers.

Brittany nodded and asked for the keycode for the door, Santana told her and let the woman press it in on her own. The door slid open to what had been Santana's solitary confinement for the past few years.

Once Brittany stepped into her room, Santana felt nervous.

Most people would have some sort of decorations up, pictures of family at least. All Santana had was a singular poster of an old band she favored in her youth and a Republic flag hung on the wall. Other than signs of someone living in the room, it was bare.

"Smells nice." Brittany eyed the empty locker to store her things. "Which bunk is mine?"

Santana pointed towards the folded bunk closest to the door. "That locker's empty too."

Brittany nodded and flipped the switch to unfold the bed from the wall. Once it laid flat, she dropped her duffel on the bed's bare surface.

"So it's kinda lucky that you get a whole room to yourself."

"Yeah. I'll… go get you some sheets for that while you get settled in."

Without hearing the thank you from her superior officer, Santana left the room. Once outside she messaged Noah and Finn to meet her in their bunk.

She didn't want to hover over the blonde, nor did she really want to be in the same room with her more than she needed to be. After the little eye opening conversation they had in the lift, Santana was learning to tread more carefully with the woman.

Santana had to rethink her whole game plan for the Lieutenant General.

|x|X|x|

"What's up Lopez?"

Noah was stretched out on his bed playing with a ball. He was seemingly already accustomed to his new robotic arm. Santana followed the green ball up into the air and down into the polymer palm.

Finn was sitting on the small couch the room was equipped with, catching the ball thrown by Noah. With the two men sharing the room it looked rather small. For a moment Santana wondered if her room would feel as constricting once Lieutenant Pierce finally settled in.

"I just wanted to say that I know you both have my back with Lieutenant General Blue Eyes, but let me handle it okay?"

"What do you need us to do?" Finn threw the small green ball over Santana's head to Puck's waiting hand.

"I need you guys to do _nothing_. This is my ass riding on this thing. I don't need someone crying about how I set them up or some shit. Got it? Just do your job like you do for me."

"Yeah, chill-lax boss." Noah scratched at the slowly growing hair on his bald scalp. "What's got your panties in a twist?"

"Nothing."

Finn laughed. "That means something."

"Listen. Just shut up. Go and… check the PF or something." Santana turned her heels to head out of the smelly room.

"Sure thing Lieutenant."

|x|X|x|

With fresh sheets in hand, Santana punched in the keycode to her now shared bunk. Stepping into the room she found the blonde woman still arranging her locker.

Brittany smiled at her roommate. "I was beginning to think you weren't coming back."

"I got held up."

Santana dropped the sheets onto Brittany's bed. Unsure of what to do with herself now, she decided to check her mail at one of the small desks the quarters provided.

Santana turned on the computer fixed into the desk, and began idly looking through her mail. Normally she would have been left by herself, and now with the addition of the woman in her room Santana didn't really know what to do.

Santana really only did three things: eat, sleep, and kick ass.

The crew had dinner at Windfall, and she didn't want to sleep with Brittany moving around not that she was sleepy at all. She could escape into the rec room, but exercise was a big no-no after her scuffle with Anderson had aggravated her injury. Quinn was preoccupied with the new mission, and Noah and Finn just proved to be meddlesome.

Santana snuck a glance at the tall woman. For all the anger Santana had for the woman, watching Brittany pick through her duffel bag and dance over to the locker with whatever item she had was oddly amusing.

As if Brittany felt the hotheaded woman's eyes on her, the blonde woman shot a smile over to Santana. Santana dropped her head back to her computer. She wonder if Brittany felt a little bad for snapping at the her in lift, the woman seemed to be pretty lighthearted. But Santana supposed that it would have to happen sooner or later. Putting Santana in her place was probably just step one of her job. If it were Santana she would probably enjoy it. From the looks of the blonde woman she was probably one of those people that got a thrill from it too.

Santana watched the woman from the corner of her eye. Brittany was picking up a few articles of clothing and then gliding over to the unused drawers, placing them neatly inside.

"So tell me about yourself Lieutenant Lopez."

Brittany caught her eye again smirking, and Santana realized that she must have been staring rather obliviously. Santana flicked her head back down to the computer screen trying to hide her embarrassment.

"I'd rather not."

Santana focused back on her screen, trying to avoid the blonde woman. A moment later Santana felt two hands clamp down on her shoulders. Brittany's face was just next her ear, her blonde hair tickling her exposed skin of her neck.

"That was an order Lieutenant Lopez."

Santana would have tried to move out of the woman's clutches, but the combined strength and demanding voice sent an unfamiliar shiver down her spine leaving her fully paralyzed.

Brittany's fingers lifted away from Santana's shoulders, restoring the paralyzed woman's movement. Particularly Santana's ability to open her mouth and speak.

"What… you-" Not speak well apparently.

"Lieutenant Lopez, we're going to be working together closely for the next few months. Suggesting that we get to know one another isn't unheard of."

Flustered and needing distance between herself and Brittany before she blew a gasket, Santana stood up from the desk.

"Yeah, I need to… talk to Sam." Stopping at her locker to grab the empty bottle, Santana bolted from the blonde's grinning face.

|x|X|x|

The door to the infirmary was already open, making it easier for Santana to stomp into the room.

"Evans!"

Three people turned with confusion on their faces at her intrusion. Tina was fixed to the side of newest member of the New Directions; Sam as usual was sitting behind his desk.

"Yes Santana?" Sam drawled out quirking his eyebrow.

"Oh, Tina… and Michael-"

"Mike's fine. Tina was just showing me around. Lieutenant Lopez right?" Mike extended his hand to Santana.

"Right, well Santana is fine off duty."

Santana did her best to smile while tucking the empty bottle into her vest pocket. "You take a liking to our in house hospital?"

Tina, who had been avoiding Santana like a diseased cat, spoke up with a small smile even. "Mike's rooming with Sam."

"Oh, well if you need to know how to get Sam in a choke hold just let me know. I can teach you a few ways to get that trouty mouth kissing the ground."

"Ha ha Santana." Sam rolled his eyes and stood up from his desk. He gently prodded Tina to collect Mike and continue the tour. "I need to tape up her hand, but I'll talk to you guys later."

Santana waved off Tina and Mike, and once the door was closed Sam was already searching through the cabinets to refill the small bottle in Santana's pocket.

"I'm not letting you out of here without taping your hand though. I was serious."

Santana pulled the bottle out and handed it to the doctor. "It's fine."

"Yeah, that gash on your knuckles looks great. Sit down and let me fix it up." Sam filled the bottle, and set out to gather supplies to clean and tape Santana's left hand.

Santana took a seat on a stool and lifted her hand onto the counter so Sam could work with it.

"Tina seems to of taken a shine to Mike."

Sam nodded, "Yeah well from what I hear from Mercedes things with Matt wasn't all sugar and dreams." Sam's face fell as soon as the words tumbled out, but Santana just ignored it.

"Well I'm just glad she found someone that might help her, you know, get through." Santana flinched from the sting of the spray.

Santana had no one to turn to when she needed it the most. She was locked away and forgotten, but that was a lifetime ago. And as they say: What doesn't kill, you makes you stronger.

"Damn Santana, I'd hate to see the other guy." Sam made quick work of wrapping tape over a small cotton gauze pad.

Santana admired his handy work. "Let's say he'll be eating soup for a while."

"Yeah well take it easy on the new girl."

Santana glared at him from the opened door.

"What? You know how you are."

Santana rolled her eyes and left without retorting. If they only knew how this Brittany woman really was.

|x|X|x|

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>

**AN: **Let me know about things and stuff. Thanks for people leaving reviews and reading. I know it's a bit of a slow start, and the chapters are long, but it's getting there.

Here's a quick hierarchy of officers and crew.

The ship New Directions is a Prospective Colony Investigation Unit (PCIU). The Captain of the ship, Quinn Fabray, oversees all operations including the Terra Team which are the people who do the actual mission work.

Lieutenant Santana Lopez is the Terra Team Leader. The team is divided into Special Operations, Officers Finn Hudson and Noah Puckerman; and Technical Operations: Tina Cohen, Mike Chang (previously Matt), and headed by Sergeant Lauren Zizes.

Lieutenant General Brittany Pierce is acting as temporary Terra Team leader for Santana.

The supporting crew aboard the New Directions are: Rachel Berry navigation expert, Kurt Hummel ship mechanic, Sam Evans doctor to the crew, Mercedes Jones ship's cook, and Artie the ship's computer system (ART system).


	4. Munity

**Disclaimer: see chapter one**

**AN:** This chapter is split up into two parts. The first half is shorter than the past two chapters, but I hope you guys don't care too much.

If you didn't, I would suggest to glance over the hierarchy at the end of chapter three.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four – Part One: Munity<strong>

|x|X|x|

Santana groaned as her alarm's shrill pulses filled the air of her room. After berating the alarm's existence under her breath, Santana remembered that she was not the only one subjected to the tortuous noise.

In a fleeting moment of compassion for her bunkmate, Santana quickly quieted the annoying buzzing.

Rubbing at her eyes to focus in the dark room, Santana found herself to be alone in the room. There was no mop of blonde hair covering the grey pillow casing. No body nearly hanging off the side of the small bunk.

Santana wondered for a moment where the frustrating woman could be before she decided she didn't care. It was probably better that Brittany wasn't present when Santana began her day. Santana was by no means a morning person, but she had long since been institutionalized into becoming an early riser. Her bed during the day was something she avoided, but in her first waking moments those warm sheets and pillows were the most inviting things in the universe.

She tossed back her covers and staggered to her feet. A quick pat to the pillow of Brittany's bunk showed that the bedding was long since abandoned. For some reason the fact brought a scowl to her face. She had a little bit of spare time before eating and the morning meeting with Quinn. Deciding to find out just exactly where the woman ran off to, Santana grabbed her things and hurried off to the showers.

The showers were usually abandoned at this hour. Santana had strategically mapped out the use of the women's so that no one would accidently see the gash on her right leg.

After a quick scan to ensure the place was empty, she disrobed and stepped under the warm spray of the showers in one of the four stalls.

The fact that the majority of her life was spent exposed to people she knew very little of, Santana relished the solitude of the empty locker room. After carefully untangling her long locks and rinsing them of the wash, Santana turned her attention to her wound.

It seemed to be healing. But the progress was far too slow for her. Granted it had only been five days. Santana never claimed to be a patient person. As she carefully rinsed the area, Santana had a thought bringing a frown to her face. It didn't really matter if she was healed yet, because she had no reason to move about as she usually did.

She was suspended.

Replaced by some hot shot blonde. Someone coming in to do the job she'd been doing for years. Someone that might have the chance that Santana needed to set things right on ASTOR-3.

The fact that the Warblers were already headed there pissed her off. But it could be easy to steal the mission from them. Santana had a suspicion of where those things were hiding out. She could sneak right under Wesley's and Anderson's nose and they'd be none the wiser. However, if Brittany manages to lead _her_ team into victory against those freakish aliens then Santana would have to give up on life.

The sudden spray from the nozzle of the stall behind her took Santana by surprise. Shielding her right side from view, she slowly turned around to see water pouring down Rachel's back.

"Staring is rude you know." Rachel hadn't even turned around.

"I wasn't staring I was contemplating the reason why someone would sneak into the showers."

"Oh, I thought you were… err _busy_." Rachel turned towards Santana, completely unabashed. After four years with the same people, you learn not to care.

At least, Santana did her best not to show it.

"First off no. Second, you still came in?" Santana moved her attention back to herself and rinsing the soap still clinging to her body.

"Well I-"

"Save it Berry." Santana wrapped her towel snuggly around her, making sure her injury was hidden.

"Why are you even up?"

"Oh, Finn woke me up-"

"That's enough. Don't wanta hear it."

Santana patted over to the lockers to dress, deciding to wrap her leg in her room before she went to breakfast.

"Is he in the mess hall?"

"Yes, I believe so with Noah and Lieutenant General Pierce." Rachel's loud voice bounced off the walls from the shower.

The thought of Brittany spending time with her officers alone irritated Santana to no end. In equal amounts of the woman buttering them up, and not being able to control what the boys said to her.

With that in mind she quickly left the showers to wrap her leg. Once again she found her room devoid of the blonde woman.

Santana's frown deepened. The only good thing that happened since beginning her day was that her injury was taking less padding than it had been. Though it still hurt like hell. She shook a couple pills into her hand and swallowed them with a gulp of water. Tugging on her vest over her white cotton shirt she left in a rush for the mess hall.

|x|X|x|

Arriving at the third level of the ship, Santana could smell Mercedes' breakfast food as it wafted through the corridors. It was the one meal that the woman excelled at creating.

Santana felt her stomach grumble as she entered the mess hall, but she was focused on the small group of people sitting at the head of the long table. No one else was in the mess hall this early for breakfast.

Finn and Puck were sitting across from Brittany and Mike. All four of them smiling like idiots.

Santana took a deep breath, looking down to her name embroidered into her vest and the two silver stripes next to the bold lettering.

She was still in charge. That was still her team. Brittany be damned.

She put on her best indifferent face and approached the men and Brittany. Mike was the first one to see her, shuffling to his feet to give her a salute. Santana waved him off. She was going to like Mike Chang.

"No need for that. Morning everyone."

Santana nodded to the gang as they chimed their greetings back to her. Santana felt uneasy at the way Brittany stared at her and hurried into the kitchen to grab a small portion of food.

Mercedes had her back turned, stirring a large pan of imitation eggs. She bit back a greeting to the chef. She needed to play interference, and talking with Mercedes right now wouldn't do her any favors. Santana grabbed a water, apple, and bowl of grits; returning back to the table quickly. Noah scooted over on the bench seat to let Santana sit at the end of the table across from Mike. Scooping some grits into her mouth Santana noticed the final member of the small group.

"I think he's adorable."

Brittany cooed at the ART system's hologram that projected itself in the center of the table.

"Thank you Lieutenant General Pierce. My programmer had a specific design in mind for my project. I'm positive he would be appreciative of your comments."

"You're welcome Artie, but please, just Brittany."

The woman tore her attention from Artie and glanced around the table, avoiding Santana.

"That goes for everyone. None of that Lieutenant General business."

Noah nudged Santana, causing her to nearly drop her spoon. She turned to him with a questioning look, and received a lecherous grin. Santana just rolled her eyes and bit into her apple and waited for the horror show to begin.

"So, Brittany." Puck leaned towards the blonde woman sitting opposite him. "I'd like to give you a full tour of the ship."

"That's very thoughtful of you."

Yeah, Puck was being mighty _thoughtful_. Santana chomped into her apple. It was either that or vomit at Puck's over-kill he called flirting.

"Yeah, see the New Directions may seem like a normal republic star ship, but its got some pretty impressive equipment if you know where to look." Puck flexed his arm to drive his point home. Santana almost choked on her apple, but she managed to keep it at an awkward cough-turned scowl at Puck.

"As tempting your offer is, Artie already gave me a full tour of the ship this morning." Brittany's grin widen as Puck deflated.

She stood from the table sparing a glance to the glowering Lieutenant, chewing hard on the bit of apple in her mouth.

"And I think I know where all the heavy artillery is kept."

Finn chuckled at Noah's rejection and Mike kept his jaw tight, clearly unused to Puck's antics.

Once the blonde woman sauntered into the kitchens to clear away her tray Santana finally swallowed the chunk of apple she'd been grinding down on.

"What the fuck Puck?" Santana punched him in the arm. Luckily for her it was his fleshy right bicep, and not the hard grey one.

"Ow, the hell Lopez?" Noah rubbed the assaulted skin with a cross look.

"I didn't think I had to it put in writing that sleeping with her is counterproductive." Santana kept her voice down and resisted banging his head against the table.

"Chill babe, it's productive for me. She's a freak'n bomb shell. Me tagging that ain't gonna hurt you. Right Finn?"

Finn had a confused look on his face, but still agreed with his friend. "Yeah Santana."

Santana massaged her temples. Mike was still sitting in quiet horror, watching the scene unfold before him. He was still really wet around the ears. In all sense of the phrase Santana mused.

"Okay, listen idiots. Maybe I don't want the Republic thinking I'm running a rag tag team of perverts. More importantly she's still the enemy. Don't let her pretty face fool you."

Finn scrunched his nose and stared down at his eggs. "I think Brittany's cool."

Mike finally contributed to the conversation."Lieutenant Pierce has been pretty nice to me."

"Lieutenant Pierce looks pretty nice to me." Puck wiggled his eye brows towards Mike.

"Isn't that inappropriate?"

"No. But neither is the size of this monster I'm pack'n in my pants!" Puck turned to Finn, making a big show of their high five.

Santana slammed her bottle of water down onto the metal table. How the hell did things turn around like this in a matter of hours? Last night she had both Finn and Noah on her side, and now she was left to stand alone against the meddlesome blonde woman.

"I'm surrounded by morons."

Just as the words left her mouth a strong pale hand landed on her shoulder. For a split second she thought it was Quinn's hand, but it was a bit larger than the Captain's.

"Lieutenant, we have a meeting to attend."

Brittany's hand slowly lifted from her shoulder and Santana regained her breath.

She wondered how much of the conversation the woman heard. But she didn't have time to dwell on it. She had a de-briefing with Quinn in a few minutes. And if Brittany didn't assume she hated her, then the chick was an idiot.

Santana waited until Brittany left the mess hall to leave herself. And a few more minutes after that. Though it was hard to sit and relisten to Puckerman's conquests. Each time he told the stories they became more and more extreme. He even had one strung together where he banged Commander General Sylvester, which Santana knew was untrue. No one deserved that kind of torture, not even Puck.

When she couldn't wait any longer in fear of being tardy, Santana stood from the table. She gave Noah and Finn a warning that they'll probably be called in an hour or two. Santana wouldn't be the one to initiate the meeting. But if Brittany had any sense of what to be doing as her replacement, she would.

|x|X|x|

The lower floor of the bridge had a large table with a few chairs seating Quinn, Santana, Brittany, and Lauren. Rachel was sitting at the navigation controls as usual, and Artie was projecting the first touchdown scheduled for ASTOR-4.

The terrain was unlike the planet's distant neighbor, ASTOR-3. In place of sand was hardened rock. In place of scorching heat was bitter cold. The whole thing looked depressing, and not worth their time.

Quinn was standing at the head of the table, pointing at a few features of the planet's surface. The Captain was dressed in her perfectly pressed uniform. Santana didn't see the reason to wear her uniform every day. The only time Santana wore anything issued was when she was on a mission, or absolutely had too. Well anything other than her vest. But that was practical, it had pockets and stuff.

Santana was propping her head up vaguely listening, and more so leering at Quinn.

"We'll make it to A-STOR 3 in a couple days…"

Recently they've been friendlier towards each other, and Santana wondered if this could lead to anything more for them. Sure they butted heads, but that was more of teasing than outward hatred. She liked Quinn enough, and it had been a while since her last hook up.

The feeling of someone watching her caused Santana to look up to Lauren. The Sergeant was staring down at the map, no doubt pretending to listen to Quinn. Scanning to the left Santana found her observer.

Brittany's bright blue eyes locked with her dark brown, and for a moment Santana couldn't hear anything in the room. Those eyes drowned out everything. Santana tried to frown, but she couldn't. The grid lock left Santana with nothing but confusion until the blonde looked away back to Quinn with a small smile on her face.

"I think that would take us through the first few days." Santana watched Quinn nod to herself. The Captain rarely actually asked them questions.

Lauren flicked a raisin across the table, sending it flying through Artie. "It'll take about thirty six hours to analyze the collection."

"Okay, then I think we're looking at two weeks? Maybe three if there's anything to find." Quinn lifted her hand to spin the image. "I doubt it though…"

Brittany shifted loudly in her seat, causing the three women to look at her.

"Sorry, why does it take so long to… do that?" Brittany spun her hand in circles. Santana didn't understand how the woman had spent three years working in this position and had yet to learn any of the terminology.

Lauren scoffed, popping another raisin in her mouth. "Perfection takes time sweet cheeks."

"What program do you use? RedAid? Cause that's ancient-"

"See this is my area. And it seems you've picked up some buzz words. But I'll tell ya this." Lauren turned her chair to face Brittany, straightening her glasses as she swiveled around.

Santana knew this wasn't going to end well.

A glance over to Quinn. Quinn had her bottom lip pinched between her teeth. The Captain seemed to share the same thought. Santana scooted to the edge of her seat. Finally this Brittany bitch was going to get some shit, and from the Queen of Bad Attitude herself.

"The program I use, it's unique. As in I created it. It works three times faster than any other PCIU data runner in this fleet. Got it?"

Brittany frowned, and Santana's smile grew with Lauren's. Zizes was a nerd and a bitch, but she was the best at what she did.

"Okay… but can I suggest incorporating Artie to run the lesser variables? No doubt that's crushing a lot of your time on things that don't like... matter or whatever."

Lauren's mouth hung open, ready to shoot down the idea. Santana was salivating for the next slice from Lauren. Waiting for the point where she could chime in.

However the snide remark never left her mouth. Instead Lauren cracked a smile and patted the Lieutenant's back. "Nice." Santana's previous grin flipped into a frown as Lauren swiveled around to Quinn saying that the bimbo has a "few not so bad ideas. Who knew?"

"If you don't mind Lauren, I'd like to assign that bit to Mike." Brittany glanced to Quinn, "you know so he can feel like a part of the team."

Lauren nodded, but Quinn answered for her. "Yeah that's fine. Then I suppose we'll be moving a little faster. Great. You're all dismissed" The map on the table faded away, and Santana slouched back into her seat.

How the hell did this woman manage to befriend everyone on the damn ship right under Santana's nose? No, right in front of her face. There was little she could do about it without making things worse, but she couldn't get a read on the blonde. One second she was goofy and then the next she was dead serious.

Lauren was the first to scurry away, taking the lift down after saying bye to Rachel. Brittany, on the other hand, was lingering.

"Captain Fabray?"

"Yes Lieutenant?" Quinn motioned for Brittany to follow her up to the navigation deck. Santana stayed at the table, kicking her feet up to rest on the metal surface.

"I was wanting to gather the Special Operations half of the Terra Team for a few drills. Just Officers Hudson and Puckerman." Santana watched Brittany's head whip down to her. "And Lieutenant Lopez, of course."

"Lieutenant Pierce you don't need to ask me permission to work with the Terra Team. Do whatever you have to, within reason." Quinn leaned against the back of Rachel's chair. The small woman huffed at the proximity of the conversation to her workstation. That huff was nothing new to Santana, she practically lived off of causing Rachel Berry aggravation. She couldn't see Berry's face, but Santana knew Rachel wasn't pleased with Quinn using her chair as a support.

"I just didn't want to cause any waves during my stay."

Santana saw Quinn's gaze flick down to her at the table and then back to the blonde woman before her. "I'm sure you won't."

Brittany smiled at Quinn and then opened the gates to the lift. "Lieutenant Lopez, I expect to see you in the training room within the hour."

Santana gave a half hearted salute. She didn't want the woman scolding her again. It seemed to work, because Brittany nodded and jumped onto the lift. Once she was sure Brittany had left, Santana jumped up from her spot at the table up to Quinn's captain chair.

In her best mocking voice Santana squeaked out "I just don't want to make waves". Quinn was looking down over Rachel's shoulder not paying Santana any mind.

"Do I actually have to go? I don't feel running the wheel for her." It was pretty true. Santana didn't feel like running around in circles for Brittany. The fact that her leg still hurt, and being put through the gauntlet wouldn't help it, made Santana all the more hesitant.

Quinn was mumbling something to the young woman and pointing to a blip on the screen. Santana covered her face from the ceiling lights of the bridge. "She's already got everybody buttered up to her."

"Are you listening to me Fabray?" Santana lifted the hand from over her eyes, finding Quinn still glued to Rachel's side. Maybe she could get Quinn to dismiss her from Brittany's unnecessary torture.

It was Rachel that spoke out first. "We can hear you Santana. Please continue complaining."

"Oh, thank you. Now I have the dwarf's seal of approval. Fantastic."

Santana slouched into the plush of the captain's chair. "You know what I really can't stand? You're stupid fucking headbands. Who told you those look good."

"Alright. Out of my chair." Quinn finally removed herself from Rachel and slapped Santana's arm. "Go and run laps with your boys."

"This is ridiculous Quinn." Santana huffed, but did as she was ordered. So much for avoiding stressing her injury.

"Take it up with your superior. I'm sure Brittany wouldn't mind if you sat out. However, I'd be sure to put that in my report if I were her."

"You don't understand, she's-"

"She's nothing Santana." Quinn stalked up in front of Santana. "Go and prove that to her if you have to. Just go and do your job so we can get her out of here." With a grin Quinn tapped Santana's shoulder.

"Tell me how it goes Lieutenant."

Pulling herself together well enough to hurry out of the bridge, Santana all but ran to the lift.

|x|X|x|

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>

**AN: **Let me know about things and stuff. Thanks for people leaving reviews and reading, I'm open for criticism or whatever you people have to say. And if you're feeling adventurous drop by my tumblr, it's linked on my profile.


	5. Bragging Rights

**Disclaimer: see chapter one**

**AN:** Here's the second part of chapter four. I hope you guys like it. And let me know if you don't.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four – Part Two: Bragging Rights<strong>

|x|X|x|

Santana was the last into the recreation room. Finn, Noah, and Brittany were waiting for her inside by the free weights. She noted the additional audience of Mike and Tina with a curt nod.

She didn't mean to late. Santana just had trouble finding shorts that would hide her injury. At the last minute she decided to forgo the wrap and hope for the best. The long mesh shorts covered the cut, but the white gauze would have been an attention getter. And she already had enough unfashionable white binding on her hand from busting Anderson's lip.

"Lieutenant, I thought you weren't joining us." Brittany stood with her arms crossed in front of Puck and Finn.

"Sorry, long line in the bathroom." Santana stalked past the tall woman and fell in line with the boys.

Brittany blinked and uncrossed her arms. She smiled at the officers and almost bounced in her shoes. "Anyway, I just want to know what I'm working with here. It won't take long."

"And what pray tell, are we going to be subject too?" Santana raised her brows expectantly.

She'd done drills with Noah and Finn weekly, when they weren't assigned to a planet, so she had a vague idea of what Brittany had in store for them. With the obvious exception of this week. Honestly Santana was just trying to agitate the woman into snapping at her. Perhaps enough to even send her away. It was an added bonus that maybe if the others saw her snap they'd see the dark side of the Lieutenant General and have different opinions of her.

Brittany didn't snap. She just brightened in front of her audience. "Well first I want to test your endurance." And she added quickly, "in case we need to run from anything."

Puck jumped up from the ground and pushed Finn towards the six treadmills in the corner. Santana sighed and dropped to the floor to start stretching out her stiff muscles. The past week she had been skipping her normal workout routine. Santana was worried that mid run her injury might reopen, but more worried that she's lose. Badly. She'd have to trust in fate that she would still be able to smoke Puck as well as the blonde Lieutenant.

Santana stretched over her left leg and she felt a shadow on her. Brittany towered over Santana, tapping none too lightly on her shoulder.

"Hey, I know it's not good for you or anything, but I didn't let the boys stretch either." Santana quirked an eyebrow and pushed herself from the floor. "You don't stretch before landing on a mission do you?"

"And what if I pull something?" Santana pulled her hair back into a high pony, minding her bruised and bandaged hand, while glancing over to Mike and Tina laughing to themselves on a weight bench.

With her attention on the couple Santana didn't realize how close Brittany was until she felt the hot breath of a whisper on her skin and the words tickle in her ear.

Santana shot away from the blonde. Unsure of what she heard was actually said. Brittany's face had nothing but an innocent smile, and Santana chalked it up to the woman trying to knock her off her game.

Puck shouted over to the women, already on his treadmill. "Excuse me ladies, but I have a 5K race to win."

Santana huffed out the breath she was holding and stomped over to the machine next to Finn. She set it at a moderate pace and looked up to the screen above the machines, where Puck and Finn's avatars were already blinking to life. She waited for Brittany to call the start of the race, but it never came. Her head turned as the woman started the machine next to her.

As if reading her mind Brittany told Santana, along with Noah and Finn, that she'd be the judge.

"Whoever can beat me gets a lollipop." The woman winked and broke out into a fast run on the machine.

Santana, Puck, and Finn quickly followed suit.

Santana had spent most of her life with Noah, and the better of three years with Finn. She knew their strengths and their weaknesses. They in turn knew hers. Though Santana was always quick to point out that, Santana Lopez didn't have any flaws, just areas of improvement. But that was part of being a team.

Knowing each other, inside out. As her training officers told her.

Santana kept a moderate pace, always waiting until the latter half to pick up. Finn was the slowest of the three of them, but his long strides keep him in the same playing field. Puck always went for broke. Pushing himself as hard as he could, and by the end he'd be gasping for air.

Neither of the men had Santana's attention though. She knew she was the fastest of the three, but the woman beside her was like a damn rocket.

The screen in front of the treadmills had avatars of the runners on a track, set to the limit of five kilometers. From the screen Santana could see that while she had a fair lead on Finn, and closing the gap between herself and Puck; Brittany was impossibly far off from them.

Behind the officers, Mike and Tina started cheering for Brittany and throwing out little jabs to Noah who already started slowing down four minutes into the race.

Eight exhausting minutes later, Santana could feel a glimmer of hope. She only had a few meters to catch up with Brittany. The woman had slowed down quite a bit, but she was still leading Santana.

"You must really… want my lollipop." Brittany worked out the words between breaths and ended with a wink. Santana nearly stumbled, but she caught herself on the bars and continued running despite the warnings from her leg and now her bruised hand that both demanded differently.

"Go Santana! You got her!"

"Yay Satan!"

Tina and Kurt cheered her on. Kurt must have snuck in earlier, which wasn't surprising since Mike and Tina were being rather loud.

Pushing through the final stretch, Brittany and Santana were neck in neck. Sweat was trailing down the sides of Santana's face, her legs burned especially her right leg. But this race, this win, Brittany could not have this.

Santana focused on pushing her avatar out in front of Brittany's. The little red person slid in front of Brittany's blue. A burst of cheers had Santana flying towards the finish line.

Jumping off the machine and into Kurt's arms steadying her, Santana gasped for breath. Tina pushed a bottle of water into her hand, and a second into Brittany's.

She had finished with only two meters between them. She won.

Brittany dropped to sit on her machine. The track was still rolling, causing the Lieutenant to drop to the floor with a thud and a giggle that made Santana shake her head. Santana's right leg burned like the engine of the ship. She refused to sit or stretch it. All she chanced was a quick wipe to test if it had torn opened. Her fingers skimmed under the mesh of her shorts and up her thigh quickly finding the scab firmly in place. Pulling them back, she looked down at her finger tips to see them covered with a sheen of sweat and nothing more.

Within the next few minutes Noah, and finally, Finn crossed the finish line. While the boys sucked down their waters Brittany took the moment to congratulate all of them.

"Great job guys!"

The woman literally bounced and clapped her hands. Leaving Santana perplexed. Where the hell did she get that kind of energy? She had to be on something.

"I can tell you've got a real ball bluster for a leader." She winked to Santana, but the words still put her on edge. What was wrong with keeping her team in top condition? Nothing, that's what. Santana glared at the blonde woman and as she finished off her water.

"What the hell are you girl?" Puck coughed out some of his water. "A fucking Olympic track star? I've never seen anyone run laps around Santana like that."

Brittany face quickly morphed into confusion. "I'm a Lieutenant General for the Republic…"

Santana wiped the sweat from the back of her neck with a white towel Kurt offered. She'll need another shower when this was over. A quick flex to her thigh gave her a bit of pain. She hoped it would hold up for whatever else was headed her way.

Finn pushed himself up from the ground. "What's next Lieutenant?"

"Just Brittany. And we'll shoot." Brittany gestured little guns with her hands and laughed. She took the towel from around her neck and threw it into Puck's face.

"Since Santana got my lollipop, I don't have anything else to give away. So we'll just go with bragging rights." Santana started to wonder what exactly she had won, but when Brittany elected to go first she dropped that line of thought.

They each were allotted thirty rounds at the virtual shooting range.

With everyone watching the Lieutenant's shots, Santana was allowed to study her a bit more closely. Brittany's stance was strong, her aim was pretty good, her hands didn't shake and she seemed practiced. It was her face that seemed out of practice.

Santana didn't know if Brittany was afraid of the weapon, which was silly since it was fake, or if it was something else that made the woman look so sad. With each kick of the gun, Brittany's eyes darkened. Santana shook her head, she didn't care if Brittany was afraid of a gun or not. If anything that worked in her favor.

"Okay, so I'm not the best. But 75% is the mark to beat." Brittany held the gun out to her three opponents. "Who's up next?"

Puck took the offered rifle and stood in front of the range. "Let me show you how to shoot blondie."

Santana shifted closer to Finn as Brittany moved to stand next to her. She wasn't going to let the woman get in her head and screw up the shooting challenge. Santana was lucky that she was able to beat her at the run. There was no way Santana was going to be the victor in the shooting. Puck was the best. Before he had his robotic arm he was close to 92%, and now with it he was slowly climbing up past it.

"Awww yeah!"

The display pulsed an 89%. Santana had a smirk on her face and returned the high five Puck doled out to her and Finn. The giant man child took the gun from bald man child and took his position at the range. Finn shot an 85%. Puck laughed and demanded that Finn was on laundry duty for the next two weeks.

Finn just rolled his eyes and tried to hand the gun over to Santana, but she denied it. Her left hand was sore from punching Anderson in the face, and the bindings on her hand didn't allow her the proper grip. Santana started to unwrap the tight bandages around her hand and she heard Brittany sigh.

"Are you sure you should take those off?" Brittany worried her bottom lip as she watched Santana continue.

"If I want to shoot I have to." Santana resisted snapping at the woman.

She dropped the wrappings to the bench next to Mike and Tina. There were only a few small cuts and bruising, but nothing major. She took the gun back from Finn and moved in front of the virtual range. Santana shifted the rifle to her shoulder and took aim. She had the gun set to small bursts of three rounds. Her sore fingers did their best to squeeze the trigger, but she knew that her score was going to be crap.

"Ha, Lopez are you regressing over your vacation? A 79, are you serious?"

"Fuck off Puckerman. I don't see you with a broken hand."

"Hey, that's enough." Brittany stepped in between Santana and Puck.

The Lieutenant pulled the gun from Santana's hands like she was going to hit Puck with it, causing Santana to roll her eyes and punch Puck in the arm anyway.

"Well at least you all shoot pretty good."

"Damn yeah we do."

"Especially you Noah."

Brittany waved the three officers to follow her over to the mats in the far corner. "Now we'll have a friendly little spar."

Brittany motioned to the white ring painted on the mat. "You can either pin for five seconds or get a ring out to win." Santana watched the Lieutenant tap a finger to her chin. "Yeah that should be good."

Santana felt her thigh twitch. Shooting hadn't done any damage, but the running had. She wasn't sure if it would hold through a physical fight. Even if the blonde Lieutenant didn't look like much, Brittany was still an officer. Meaning that she had some skill.

Brittany turned towards the officers and pulled her shirt over her head, leaving the Lieutenant in a sports bra. All worrying thoughts of Santana's injury died.

Santana had recognized that Brittany had piercing blue eyes and golden hair to match her traditional beauty. However Santana's immediate anger towards the replacement masked over everything else about Brittany.

Apparently it had taken the blonde woman striping, for Santana to take up her usual lecherous thoughts.

Brittany stretched her arms over her head, she was preparing to fight as were Puck and Finn. But Santana was left wondering if the blonde's abdominal muscles were as firm as they appeared. If the Lieutenant's freckled, pale skin would be soft under her fingers.

"Noah, since you won the last round you get to go first."

Brittany was smiling, and Santana looked over to Puck who was grinning just as wide. Puck pulled off his shirt and threw it at Kurt, who batted it to the ground in disgust.

"Alright sweet cheeks." Puck stepped into the ring, giving Santana an evil grin. "You sure you can handle the Puckasaurus?"

"Who?"

Brittany dropped down into position like she knew what she was doing, but with her head cocked to the side it didn't seem so.

Tina bounced between them, holding her hand out "Ready?" and then raising it above her head. "Fight!"

Santana watched as Brittany and Puck circled each other for a moment. Puck's eyes more so disrobing the woman further than studying her moves. Santana was about to shout at him, but in the same instance Brittany tackled him.

"Holy shi-"

Puck was lifted off the ground by Brittany's shoulder and then slammed down, pinning his robotic arm. He landed near the ring. Santana guessed Brittany was hoping for a ring out. A smart move, considering Puck wasn't built like a twig.

Before Puck had a chance to flip over, he had a forearm crushing his throat. Brittany twisted his free hand above his head, and used her weight to keep him from moving his legs.

Finn was laughing, and Santana had to admit it was pretty funny seeing Puck getting pinned so fast.

"Five!" Tina counted off, and pulled Brittany's hand up to declare her the winner.

Santana smirked at Puck, still on the ground rubbing his throat. Kurt helped him to his feet and dropped Puck's abandoned shirt on his shoulder. Puck pulled on his shirt and begrudgingly gave Brittany a quick hand shake.

"You just surprised me is all."

Brittany's smile dropped into a thin line. "It seems that you all have that problem."

Brittany glanced to Finn and lingered on Santana. The look was one of shame. The tone of her voice was like the woman had spent some time thinking about it, thinking of ways that things went wrong, how she could have corrected them.

Santana looked to her two officers, holding their heads in guilt. And it pissed Santana off more than anything else. More than everyone on the ship refusing to talk to her. More than her suspension.

Who the hell was Brittany to tell them that they didn't do enough? She wasn't there.

"If you took me seriously, you probably wouldn't have ended up on your back." Brittany paused and added with a smile, "like a turtle."

Puck shuffled past Santana to sit on the bench next to Mike. Santana didn't feel the brush of his shoulder. Replaced were earlier thoughts of ways to run her fingers through Brittany's blonde hair. Now she was busy thinking of ways to pull that blonde hair out of the woman's head.

Finn's hand dropped on Santana's shoulder. "I got this."

Before he could move into the ring Santana pushed him backwards. "No, I do."

Brittany had yet to replace her frown with the teasing smile she'd become familiar with from the blonde, so Santana assumed her glare was in full action. Tina warily stepped between them and announced the fight.

"Let's see what you got Lieutenant Lopez."

Santana had the advantage of watching Brittany take down Puckerman. The woman was fast, relying on her legs to lift and topple over her opponent.

Santana dropped lower, so Brittany couldn't do the same to her.

Brittany lunged towards her, only succeeding in brushing Santana's tank top as she side stepped Brittany's attack. Santana tried to push Brittany to the ground by landing a blow in between her shoulder blades; but Brittany dropped down to the mat and with a foreign grace, kicked Santana's legs out from under her.

Santana felt her anger flare from the embarrassing attack that left her winded on the ground. Brittany was moving to pin her, and Santana used the woman's momentum to flip her onto the mat.

In a flash Santana had Brittany's wrists pinned above her head, and straddling the woman's waist. Tina started counting, and Santana could feel the high of putting the woman in her place.

"Three!"

Brittany's serious expression finally left her face. Now the woman had a smug grin. Santana wasn't offered time to find an explanation. She was being lifted up and backwards, allowing Brittany's legs to get a hold of her torso and fling her back onto the mat. The hard thud from the mat stunned Santana and she didn't have time to roll away as Brittany jumped on her, switching their positions.

Santana struggled against Brittany's hold and berated herself for losing the upper hand. The woman's fingers had a death grip on Santana's wrists, and for being so skinny the woman was too heavy for Santana to pitch off her waist despite her desperate attempts.

Brittany was grinning down at her, pressing her weight down onto Santana. The woman's eyes drowned out the count from Tina. They were much darker than Santana had noticed; normally the woman had bright blue, but the intensity of them now showed nothing of her usual carefree attitude. They held nothing but loss for Santana. She was defeated.

It wasn't until she felt Brittany slowly pull herself from Santana that she realized it was over.

"Better, but don't get so angry. That's why you lost."

Brittany extended a hand to help Santana up. As the blonde's eyes did, her words suggested that Santana lost more than the match. Her thoughts went to Matt and Puck struggling with the creature.

Growling to the woman towering over her, Santana knocked away the hand.

"I don't need you telling me what to do." Santana jumped to her feet, prodding Brittany's warm skin covering her chest. "That was child's play compared to those fucking monsters."

Brittany looks around to the crew and officers. "I wasn-"

"Yeah you were. You think you're hot shit? Then you go and fight them off."

"Santana." Finn was standing behind her, trying his best to get her to back down. He knows what comes next, and it's usually a fist. Today it'd have to be the right fist Santana noted mentally while flexing the same hand.

Brittany swallowed before backing off, turning back to the mat. "Cool off Lieutenant."

Santana barked out a laugh, and stomped out of the large room making as much noise as she can. Only once the door slides shut behind her does Santana drop her guard.

Her leg is burning and her hand is aching. Annoyingly she feels stinging behind her eyes. The reason why she feels like crying is unclear, but she chalks it up to losing.

Santana feels her feet gravitate to the lift, her fingers pressing for the third level. She'll pick up a bottle of water and annoy Sam. That'll make her feel better.

|x|X|x|

Santana spent the rest of her day following around Sam while he was busying with the infirmary. Stocking and checking files on the computer, and even awkwardly trying to make conversation with the silent Lieutenant. He brought her a tray of food at dinner. It isn't until Puck comes in to check on her later in the evening that she leaves.

"You wanta play foosball?" Puck follows Santana out into the hallway when she bolts from the infirmary. Santana sees that he has his hands shoved into his pockets. She hears the well hidden worry in his words.

"When have I ever wanted to do that?" Her voice is clipped and annoyed. Santana has played exactly twice. Both times she was off her ass from Puck's illegal store of alcohol.

"Well I jus- Hey little dude!"

Artie appeared in the hallway before the pair. "Lieutenant Lopez."

"What gizmo?"

"Captain Fabray requests your presence."

"Yeah ok." Santana bats her hand through the hologram. It doesn't do anything, but it makes her feel a little better.

|x|X|x|

After an unfruitful search of the bridge, Santana ducks into Quinn's room. Santana wasn't apprehensive to see or talk to Brittany, she just would rather not. Quinn was sitting at her desk, talking to someone on the computer. The Captain motioned Santana to sit down.

Santana pulled off her vest and threw it onto the couch. She then dropped down on to Quinn's bed, stretching out over it. She knew Quinn was particular about her bed, and Santana took a little pleasure in knowing that Quinn couldn't tell her to get up. Teasing people always was a small joy in her life.

After a few minutes Quinn ended the call. She stood up and crossing the room to smack Santana's head with a tiny smile. "I can see you're in a mood today."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means Lieutenant Pierce paid me a little visit today."

"Whatever she said was bullshit."

"She asked if you were always hostile to your superiors." Quinn dropped to the bed next to Santana, knocking her with her shoulder.

"And what did you say?"

"The truth."

"The fuck does that mean?" Santana growled at the Captain.

"It means you need to watch your ass Santana!" Quinn stood up from the bed to stand over Santana. "You can't be mouthing off to everybody, especially Brittany."

Santana bit her cheek. She's done a very good job at not calling the Lieutenant out on anything. And today, when the bitch deserved every word, Santana gets in trouble.

"Christ Santana. She makes or breaks you!"

Santana swallowed her immediate action to lash out. Instead she reached out to Quinn, gripping her wrist lightly. Quinn's scolding stopped and she stared down at the dark hand on hers.

"She was talking trash."

Quinn shook off Santana's hand. "So you can dish it out, but you can't take it?"

"Not just about me."

Santana turned away from the woman, looking down to the floor. "She made Puck and Finn feel like shit. Like it was our fault that Matt died. Like we could of done something different."

Santana closed her eyes, feeling the prickling in her eyes for the second time today.

Quinn sighs. "It wasn't anyone's fault."

Santana felt the bed dip down besides her.

"It wasn't your fault." Quinn's voice was softer this time. Santana felt the first tear roll down her cheek, and she hid her head in her hands.

Santana wasn't sure why she was crying. She'd never done it in front of other people. At least not since she was young. Maybe Matt's loss was finally hitting her? No, it was just the thought that people blamed her for it. Her pride was wounded. She couldn't deal with that on her conscious.

"Santana…" Quinn's hand lightly brushed over her shoulder. Santana leaned towards Quinn's touch, letting the woman pull her closer in a hug. Quinn didn't say anything else, she just let Santana cry silently against her shoulder.

Minutes passed and Santana's quiet tears dried. Quinn cradled Santana to her chest, holding her Lieutenant tightly against her and stroking through the end of Santana's pony tail. Santana felt her shame fade, replaced with something that caused her breath to grow shallow.

Quinn had never let her very close. This was entirely new for her, for them. This had to mean something. Why else would Quinn hold her so intimately? Taking in a deep breath, Santana pushed away from the Captain. It was all or nothing right?

Confusion crossed Quinn's eyes, until Santana pushed back her hair behind her ear. Santana moved her hand up behind Quinn's neck, watching the woman close her eyes. Taking that as a good sign, Santana moved forward to Quinn's lips.

The hand on Santana's back tightened as she brushed against Quinn's dry lips. With a surge of courage Santana pressed against Quinn with more force, feeling Quinn push back in response. Quinn pulled Santana closer, deepening their kiss.

Santana felt lightheaded as Quinn's tongue shyly moved over hers. A quiet moan came from Quinn and Santana smirked into the Captain's lips. She placed her right hand on Quinn's shoulder to guide the Captain down onto the bed.

Quinn pulled away from Santana, staring at her wide eyed. And Santana knew she fucked up. "No… I can't."

Santana jumped off the bed and picked up her vest from the couch to put it back on. "If you're not gay, then don't go kissing girls Quinn."

"Santana." Quinn shot out her arm, keeping Santana from leaving. "I just don't like you like that."

"I'm beginning to think no one does."

Quinn looked at her sadly and dropped her arm. Pushing past Quinn, Santana stalked through the door and across the hall to her own, now unfortunately shared room.

Inside she found Brittany busy at her desk. "Evening Lieutenant."

Fuck off was her go to greeting, but Quinn's earlier lecture was truthful. So instead she grunted and threw open her locker.

It took Santana only a moment to deicide that she didn't care about sleeping in her sweaty clothes or that her skin was still sticky from the afternoon's activities. She shook off her vest, dropped it into the bottom of the locker, and opened the bottle of pain pills she kept on the top shelf.

Santana shook out one and then thought that she'd rather not remember the last twenty four hours of her life, and swallowed three of the tiny blue pills.

"What are those?"

She pointedly ignored Brittany's question. Santana took a drink of the bottle of water sitting on her desk.

"Lieutenant?" Brittany stood from her desk, glaring at Santana.

"It's for my hand."

Santana pulled back the sheets to her bed. The pills were taking affect a lot quicker than she was used to. The downside to increasing the dose. Or maybe upside, she has yet to judge it fully.

"Maybe you should be nicer to people." Brittany was apparently satisfied her false answer and sat back down.

"Tried that. Doesn't work. Everyone's an asshole."

"You should keep trying. Someone might surprise you."

"Like who?"

Brittany didn't say anything more. Santana caught a faint twitching smile before she passed out, but she wasn't sure. Santana wasn't sure of anything anymore.

|x|X|x|

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>

**AN: **Let me know about things and stuff. Thanks for people leaving reviews and reading.


	6. Don't Fake It

**Disclaimer: see chapter one**

**AN:** This chapter's a bit long, but I think that you'll like it.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five: Don't Fake It<strong>

****|x|X|x|

_Santana stood as a world of dark shadows moved around her. In the distance she heard soft whimpers. Light filtered through and she was able to see her mother._

"_Mama? Why are you crying?" _

_Her mother all tanned skin with dark beautiful locks of hair cascading down her back; was crying silently to herself. The woman was sitting in a room Santana remembered to be their kitchen from long ago, staring blankly to the air before her uncaring of the tears pouring down her face. _

_Santana stepped into the room. The walls were dark and fuzzy, swirling and closing in around them. Like a warm cocoon. _

"_Santana, my sweet child. Come here." _

_Her mother beckoned her closer. Santana looked down to her hands, those of a child and not a fully grown woman. They were still soft and unscarred from the misery of her life._

"_Is it because Papa's gone?" A dull pain thudded in her chest remembering her father's death._

"_No, Tana. It's because I must follow him."_

"_I want to see Papa too!"_

_Santana felt herself being lifted into her mother's arms as the beautiful woman held her and watched the darkness swim around them. _

"_No, you're going to bed." The woman smiled through her tears. _

_Santana protested through a yawn. The room morphed into her bedroom. Her mother tucked her under the warm, thick blankets. She giggled as her mother peppered kisses on her cheeks. _

"_Never fear to dream Santana, sometimes that's all we have."_

"_Goodnight mama."_

"_Goodnight my love." _

_Santana watched the door close. Tiny twinkling lights erupted on her ceiling. As the stars melded together, Santana felt her eye lids drooping close. Just as Santana felt herself drifting off into slumber a shot rang out from downstairs. _

_Santana felt more than heard the noise. The angry burst vibrating through her heart and humming in her ears._

_Santana jumped up, but the sheets tangled around her limbs keeping her from the door. After she struggled out of the sheets, Santana bolted from her room and to the hall. Falling more than running down the staircase and into the kitchen where she last seen her mother. _

"_Mama…" The word died on her tongue. _

_Sitting limp in a chair was her mother. A small dark hole graced her left temple. Santana rounded her mother stepping over an old mechanical pistol lying at feet of the chair. Santana choked her initial scream and dropped back in horror, slipping in the pool of liquid. _

_She cried out at the sight of the mangled, red and white flesh opposite of the tiny dark hole on her mother's head. Damage her mother had done herself. Her mother's way to leave this world in search of her love. _

"_Mama!"_

_Santana dropped down to the floor, throwing her tiny arms around her mother's legs. The blood pooled around her seeped into her clothes. The tears streamed down her face dropping into the liquid below her. Each droplet causing a small ripple in the growing pool. _

_Soon the ripples grew in strength, until they reached out around her. Blood filled the room, pouring from the walls, streaming from an unknown source. Santana sat motionless crying into her mother's legs, allowing the darkness overtake her. _

Santana woke from the same dream she'd been having for four nights, to a world of blurry shadows spinning and swirling together. Silently groaning she closed her eyes and sank back into her pillow. Her alarm wasn't the noise to wake her. Santana stilled when the tired, soft voice sounded again.

"I've been doing this for three years dad."

"_Three years of what Brittany? Playing substitute for miscreants and deviants? That's hardly a position for a Pierce!_"

Santana craned her neck to peer across the dark room. Her vision swam, but she still managed to find Brittany sitting at her desk. The blue light from the computer screen highlighted the woman's hair, catching the yellow in her hair.

What Santana focused on was the look of fatigue in the woman's body, which she had never seen before. The past few days Brittany had always been energetic, talking with whomever would listen. Santana's head swirled again and she let it softly land onto her pillow. A reminder of her own self produced fatigue.

"You're the one who sent me here. What more do you want from me?" Brittany's voice was angry, but kept quiet as not to wake her bunk mate.

"_I gave you everything and what do I have to show? A meek girl with a title she doesn't deserve!_"

As much as Santana wanted to take pleasure in the woman being belittled by her father, the pounding between her ears was making it almost impossible. She was tittering on the edge of telling Brittany to go back to sleep and screaming at the old man to shut the fuck up.

"Excuse me if I'm not thanking you for a life I didn't want."

"_We come from a long line of prestigious military leaders. A family you had the honor of being born into. I've given you time Brittany, but I can no longer sit idle by and watch you besmirch the Pierce name."_

"Idle by?"

Brittany's harsh whisper sounded like a gunshot rattling through Santana's skull. The rattle in her head urged a wave from her stomach to crawl up her throat.

"_Brittany! Once you return from your waste of time, I'm sending you to the Capital._"

"To do what?"

"_You will be my replacement, since you've taken a liking to replacing people. Admiral Foster is getting too old for the new stress these Rebels are pressing. Problems that I can resolve, not that it will concern you._"

"Dad I really don't want that. Didn't you send me to Windfall to be out of the way?"

Santana couldn't fight the ball of bile sneaking up her throat any longer. She shot out of bed and staggering past Brittany, supporting herself on Brittany's shoulder while the door opened.

"Santana?"

"_Really Brittany? You can't even pretend to be decent while speaking with me, you have your whores_-"

Santana didn't care to hear the rest, even if she disagreed with it. Once she found her way to the toilet and kicked open a stall, she emptied her stomach.

A tangy taste on her tongue, twin wet trails on her cheeks, along with a faint buzz in her ears were all she was left with after a few minutes of retching. The past few days this had become her morning routine.

Standing in front of the wall of mirrors and sinks, Santana scowled at her image. Even if she hadn't of just finished puking, she was a shell of her former self. The blame could only rest with herself. Her physical reaction to trying to cover up her life with pills solidified it.

They hadn't even done their job. Santana remembered every horrifying moment of the evening three days ago.

She'd fucked over her friendship with Quinn. She hadn't spoken a word to the Captain since that night, and Quinn had returned the favor.

What the hell had she thought when she tried to kiss her? Like Quinn was actually interested in her.

_Not every girl that hugs you wants in your pants Lopez._ She thought bitterly to herself as she turned on the faucet.

What did she have to offer anyone?

She wasn't even a Lieutenant right now. Her team had been hijacked by some ditzy woman with daddy issues. And who knows how the Tribunal Court was going to rule on her case.

"Shit." The hot water ran into the open cuts on her knuckles, earning her a fresh sting.

"You okay?"

Brittany's reflection moved from the door way towards the row of sinks.

"I'm fine." Santana gruffed over her shoulder at Brittany and splashed water on her face from the running tap. She dried her face with a towel and tried to push past the blonde only to be caught by two strong hands gripping her shoulders.

Santana gave the woman a questioning look. She felt Brittany's hands fall down to her wrists, Brittany's thumbs grazing over the small protruding bone there.

Santana stared into Brittany's dark blue eyes. "Whatever you heard… My father he's-"

"I didn't hear anything." Santana shook away Brittany's hands as she felt another quake in her stomach, though this one didn't have her running into a stall.

"San- Lieutenant." Brittany's voice grew cold. "You have two hours before we're schedule to drop to the surface." She spun around and then left the room without a response from Santana.

Santana turned back to the sinks, staring down at the metal drain until she heard another crew member come into the room.

|x|X|x|

Lauren, Quinn, and Santana had a three tiered plan.

The first day the ship would orbit the planet while scanning the surface. It was of course, the first step.

The second step was figuring where to drop down and collect. Lauren selected the sites, particular points on the surface that she thought would be fruitful, and Quinn signed off on it.

The third step engaged the Special Operations division of the Terra Team's skill. Santana would take the sites and strategize the drop. How and when to land on the planet's surface, and the duration of their stay. It was her job to ensure the safety of the Terra Team. Again, it required Quinn's blessing.

However the ASTOR-4 Mission was completely different.

The planet dubbed by the United People's Republic as ASTOR-4 was nothing more than a floating rock. It wasn't more than 5,000 kilometers in diameter, and it was about 2.5 billion kilometers from the system's star.

Other than the planet's lacking physical charm, the normal motions of the plan were skewed.

Brittany had replaced Santana. Though she was asked to attend the meetings, Santana didn't add anything to the conversations. It was hard for Santana to keep her mouth closed during the mission meetings, but Quinn's presence ensured that she didn't say a word. Adding to Santana's frustration, Lauren and Quinn didn't seem to mind Brittany's _fresh_ perspective regarding the Terra Team's operations.

Santana looked forward to the mission as she secured herself in the seat next to Puck on the PF with the thick material of the harness.

"Let's see how you like sitting with the peons Lopez." Puck smiled at her and buckled his own harness.

Without the feeling of control, and sitting next to Puck; it all made for an interesting trip to the surface of A-STOR 4 for Santana. The landing was more jarring than she remembered from her seat in the cockpit.

However being ordered by Lieutenant General Pierce was more unnerving than anything else.

Finn had landed the PF next to two fairly large rock formations, not something that Santana would advise she mused silently. The rocks had been battered by space debris into somewhat of a horse shoe shape. After helping Lauren roll the equipment over the rocky ground, Santana took her post on the opposite point of the horse shoe from Puck.

There was literally nothing to do but freeze and stare into the empty landscape. Even with the heated suit and extra layers, the cold seeped into Santana's skin.

After about an hour of mindless chatter, Santana turned off her radio in favor of staring up at the inky black sky. The lights from the PF lit up the area between the rock formations where Lauren, Tina, and Mike were busying working.

Brittany pattered between the three of them. Santana had watched Puck throw rocks into the darkness until she grew bored and shifted her attention to Finn. He was toying with the landing gear, and Santana wondered if that was a very good idea.

"Lopez," Puck's voice sounded in her ears. "five o'clock."

Santana tensed and readied her rifle in her shoulder to look behind her right shoulder. The nerds where all busy with whatever they were doing. There was nothing threatening so she dropped her guard.

Tina was typing onto one of the computers, and Mike was mixing something in a clear tube. The only thing moderately amusing was Lauren and Brittany. The women were both ass up messing with a small drilling machine.

"What Puckerman?"

"Lopez, are you ok? Cuz there's booty. And it's rock'n, everywhere."

Santana was sure his focus wasn't purely on Lauren, so she chanced another look at the two women. The Republic's space suits were flattering to someone with the right build. And Brittany was of course one of those people. Santana knew it was just a plain grey suit, but somehow with Brittany filling it the suit became much more interesting.

"Lieutenant Lopez, Puckerman." Brittany's voice clipped in her ears.

Santana had completely missed Brittany standing up and turning around. From Brittany's posture Santana convinced herself that the Lieutenant was trying to glare at Noah.

"Why don't you two climb up on the rocks there? It'd be better to see the horizon."

Puck chimed out his yes, and Santana just started to find the proper footholds on the rocks behind her. At least she hadn't commented on anyone's _booty_ and its _rock'n_ status.

It didn't take long for her thigh to tense up. It had been eight days, and her injury still hadn't healed properly. She should have let Sam look at it. But there was no time to do that now.

Santana was mindful not to over stretch it or put too much of her weigh on it as she climbed. She made it up to a flat spot on top of the grey rock. The formation only reached about five or six meters in the air, but it was enough of a drop to make Santana wary of the edge.

Instead of facing east, as she was ordered, Santana looked down onto her team. They were all working diligently since Brittany told them they had forty minutes left before they had to pack up. Even though they were meters apart and the woman's flashy hair and eyes were covered up; there was something about the Lieutenant General that was catching Santana's attention.

The woman wasn't doing anything in particular. Brittany was quite literally standing and watching the nerds quickly collect and store their samples.

For the first time, Santana felt as though she was regarding Brittany with something other than contempt. Maybe it was the early morning conversation she overheard. Maybe it was because Brittany was always polite and friendly.

No. Santana was just losing her edge.

As if sensing being watched, Brittany spun around and peered up at Santana. Cocking her head, helmet and all, to one side.

Santana felt heat rising to her cheeks and she shuffled back on her heels to turn away from the woman. The abrupt turn caused the heavy gun strapped to her back and body armor to exacerbate the motion. Santana felt herself tilting back over the edge and then falling down the side of the rock face.

Santana was sliding down the embankment quickly. She tried to dig her heels into the rock, but all it accomplished was a searing pain to erupt in her right leg. Her body was tumbled down the rocks and landed in a heap hard against the cold ground.

Brittany was the first to reach her, followed closely by Finn. Brittany knelt down next her and helped her into a sitting position. Santana groaned and slapped the woman's hands away.

Finn loomed over them as Puck came into Santana's view.

"You alright Santana?" Santana gritted her teeth and nodded to Finn. She could feel something cool and wet against the skin on her leg with could only be from her stab wound reopening.

"I'm fine."

Santana attempted to push herself up, but Puck and Finn were quick to pull her to her feet. The sudden weight on her leg caused her to topple forward into Puck.

"Dude, why don't you go and sit down?" Santana steadied herself and pushed Puck away.

Brittany's gloved hand came to rest on her shoulder. "Yes Lieutenant, go rest in the flyer."

"No I'm fine. I'll just lean against the rocks."

Santana clutched her leg as she watched Brittany tap Puck on the shoulder and direct him back to his post. "Puckerman go back on lookout. Hudson, take over the Lieutenant's. I'll escort her to the PF."

Puck stalled for a moment, but did as he was ordered; and Finn was already climbing up the rocks.

"I'm fine, I don't need- Ow! That fucking hurt!" Santana slapped away Brittany's hand that had just poked into her leg.

"Exactly."

Brittany pushed a button on her suit to speak to the entire team. "Start packing up now."

Santana saw Lauren throw her arms up in the air. If she cared to listen there would probably be more than a few curses aimed at her. Not only did she tear open her leg, which was screaming at her in pain, but she was now forcing the mission to end thirty minutes early.

Brittany lifted Santana's arm over her shoulder as Santana was watching the nerds rage, and started to pull her towards the PF. Santana thought about dropping to the ground, but not only would that probably end up hurting, and Brittany would probably just drag her into the PF.

After hobbling to the PF, Santana tried to push Brittany away but the woman held fast. She was apparently determined to see that Santana was fully embarrassed.

Their boots clanked against the extended loading bay as they made their way into the small ship. Brittany helped Santana in the only room other than the cockpit inside the PF. It was a small room which in emergency situations could be stabilized separately from the rest of the ship.

"I think I can manage from here."

"Not to be rude, but you don't strike me as a person that takes care of themselves."

Santana scowled and took a step towards the locker which held some standard medical supplies. "Not to be rude, but I've been doing just fine without you."

"Right, well I'm not leaving until I know you're not dying."

Santana placed the gauze pads and tape on the counter and shrugged off her rifle and armored vest. Where the hell did Brittany get off? Santana was a grown ass woman. She didn't need someone holding her damn hand because she slid down a little rock.

"I'm not. There you can go now."

Brittany huff was barely audible through the helmet's microphone. Santana turned her back on the woman and sorted through the medical supplies.

"You're gonna have to let people care someday Santana."

Santana kept her focus on the medical supply under her gloved hands. Brittany was getting under her skin today, pressing her buttons on purpose. For some reason the blonde's words were affecting her more than usual.

"You're reporting to the infirmary when we get back." Brittany was being short with her. Despite everything it brought a little smile to Santana that her stubbornness could frustrate the blonde woman just as much as Brittany annoyed her.

The air lock door sealed shut and Santana keyed in the code to repressurize the room. After shucking off her helmet and suit and dropping the tight undersuit down around her boots, Santana surveyed the damage.

She couldn't see her back. From the tiny stings she guessed that there'd be some bruising there later on. As for her stab wound, it had been completely torn open and was leaking blood along with a clearer liquid.

Santana sighed and bandaged it.

Her leg hurt, but it was her fault. Acting stupid and falling down a freaking cliff. Why had Brittany distracted her so? She was completely off her game today. Santana wiped away the blood and tightly wrapped her leg. It was probably just because she wasn't in charge. That's all. Brittany had different ways of doing things, Santana was just observing her.

Santana shook off her thoughts and busied herself with putting her gear back on. She was going to have to think of a good story to tell Sam.

|x|X|x|

"What the fuck Santana?" Sam yelled as he inspected Santana's leg.

"It's not a big deal. I'm fine."

Santana tugged her leg away from Sam's gloved fingers. He was nice enough to let her change into her normal clothes rather than a plastic gown like Puck had to wear.

"You've been walking around with a freaking hole in your leg? How is that even possible?"

"I just deal."

"Is that what you've been using the pain pills for?" Sam spun on his stool to pull a tray of instruments closer to him.

"No… What does is matter Sam?" A half truth.

"Just lay down so I can put you back together." Santana flopped down on the cot while Sam readied his tools. "This is going to pinch."

"Oh please. Not a pinch." Santana rolled her eyes as Sam injected the local anesthetic into her thigh.

"I don't know how this isn't infected."

"I kept it clean and dry, like some guppy lipped doctor told me once."

"Sometimes I wonder why I bother with you."

"It's definitely not because I have awesome boobs."

"I'm going to pretend that our relationship isn't that shallow and close this hole up now."

Santana bit her tongue as Sam set about closing up her wound properly. Even with the area numbed, she could feel a sting from staples.

After a few minutes Sam stood up off the stool and went to grab some bandages. "I'm not done with you yet Santana."

The door to the brightly lit infirmary opened. Santana craned her neck to see around the curtain, finding that the Captain had waltzed into the room. Santana shrunk down into the sheets of the cot, hoping that they would hide her from the woman she's been avoiding.

"Hey Quinn."

"Sam, what happened to her?"

"She fell down a ridge. She's fine but the fall reopened an old wound. She's stubborn and won't tell me how she got that, but she's over there. Maybe you can get the story out of her."

Quinn's boots clicked on the floor, pausing to rip the curtain separating Santana from the rest of the room back. Sam was close on her heels carrying the bandages in his hands.

"I get a message from Puckerman that you fall down a cliff and end up with a stab wound. But not a word of how it happened."

"It's a mystery even to me." Santana tossed the sheets back and lifted her leg up a bit so that Sam could wrap her leg.

Quinn crossed her arms and glared down at Santana. "I order you to tell me."

"I'm off duty. Suspended remember." Santana shrugged and stared blankly at Quinn's heated glare.

Sam shifted uneasily while he worked. "Maybe you should tell her Santana."

Santana dropped Quinn's glaze and tried to pull her leg away from the doctor. "No one asked you Evans. Go get some love tots."

"I don't see what the big deal is. I wanta know too!"

Quinn stomped her foot, shaking the cups on the table next to the cot. "Santana you tell me how the hell this happened or I'll-"

"Excuse me, but I need have a word with Lieutenant Lopez."

Santana looked past Quinn to the taller blonde woman, who was currently playing with the zipper of her jacket. Brittany must have snuck into the room. Santana was embarrassed enough to be caught lying on her back when Quinn walked in. Brittany standing over her added to her discomfort. She pushed herself up further on the cot, so she could be in somewhat of a sitting position.

"I'm busy with her now, talk to her later."

Santana watched Brittany stiffen, straightening her shoulders and focusing on Quinn.

"I have information on the Lieutenant's pending trial. So if you two don't mind I'd like a few minutes alone with her." Her voice was hard and threatening.

Sam looked concern for her and quickly finished wrapping her leg and scurried away. Quinn on the other hand glared at the taller woman the entire way to the door. At least those two now had a taste of the blonde's alter ego.

Once they were gone Santana heard Brittany let out a heavy breath and drop onto the stool next to her cot. Brittany stared openly at the bandage on Santana's leg. Santana had changed into her usual vest and white undershirt, but she had on shorts so that Sam could mend her leg. Shorts that Santana were finding to be a bit too short.

"So, what's the news?"

"Huh?"

Santana quirked an eyebrow, did she really forget? "About my suspension."

"Oh, yeah I don't know."

"Why the hell did you say that then?" Santana balled her hands into fists in the sheets, debating whether or not to cover her legs with them.

"It looked like you could use a break."

Santana relaxed against the cot's pillows. Brittany had done her a favor then. Once Quinn set her sights on something there was really not much to stop her. Well, apparently Brittany was an exception to that rule.

"Thanks."

Brittany nodded and took a quick breath. "Does it hurt?"

"Uh, no. Sam gave me a-"

"Not that… The pushing people away thing."

"Look Brittany, thanks for getting Quinn and Sam off my back. But that's really none of your business."

"You know I move around a lot. I stay at Windfall for maybe a couple weeks. I stay on a particular assignment for maybe a couple months. So I get to meet a lot of new people."

Santana rolled her eyes. "That's great."

"Let me finish. I know a lot of people, but the only people that know me are light years away. I know it's none of my _business_, but you… You have a whole ship full of people. Good people. And you can't even let them care about you."

Santana clenched her jaw. The woman's speech threw her off, mostly because it was hitting close to home. She didn't have a snide response when Brittany said nothing but the truth.

Brittany stood up from the stool to sit on the side of the cot. Santana watched the woman shake her head sadly. She stiffened when Brittany reached out to cup her cheek.

"It makes me sad to see someone like you be so lonely."

"I'm not-" The hand cupping her cheek felt like fire and her heart added an extra beat. She wanted to rip Brittany's hand away, but she couldn't.

"Yes you are. I can tell."

The Lieutenant General's unspoken _it takes one to know one_ passed through Santana. Santana didn't realize, probably because she never cared to think about Brittany like that. But moving around the universe like she did, Brittany had to be lonely. Staring into those blue eyes Santana saw just how true those words to be.

Tugging at the corner of every smile, Brittany had a weight pulling them down. Even now, Brittany's tiny smile was felt forced onto her face as she stared into the white sheets. Santana wanted to say something to make the woman stop looking so sad. Tell her that didn't need to pretend to be happy. But she just stared into Brittany's teary eyes until the woman's hand drifted off her face.

Santana didn't know why, but she felt like there was something pulling in her gut to tell Brittany. Maybe that could make the Lieutenant General stop pretending if Santana did.

"I… My leg, how I got hurt." Brittany stopped at the curtain, letting her pale hand trail over the thin material. "The alien that killed Matt did it. I didn't even see the blade, Puck and Matt were…" Santana gulped and pushed down her nerves to finish. "I didn't tell anyone, because I didn't want to worry them. They just lost Matt and Puck's arm got…"

"They could of lost you too." Brittany gave her a weak smile, and walked out the open door. It was small, but it was the first smile that Santana ever saw on Brittany's face and felt it to be real.

|x|X|x|

Santana spent her evening in the mess hall. Getting told about a hundred times how stupid she was for not telling people about her injuries.

After her conversation with Brittany, Santana decided that she should probably tell Finn and Puck at least. Finn told Rachel, and Rachel told every living creature on the ship. Including Artie.

The only people who hadn't approached her about the whole thing were Quinn, who chose to glare at her from afar; and Brittany, who was curiously absent from dinner. Normally the woman would be chatting away with anyone who bothered to listen.

Once Santana had her fill of scolding, the better part of an hour, she and Sam followed Puck into his bunk to sample the small assortment of booze he kept hidden away behind his locker.

"I wanta see the scar." Puck poked at her leg as he sat down on his bed.

"Knock it off!" Santana swatted his hand away. "There's not even a scar yet dumbass."

Sam was handed the unlabeled bottle first and dropped onto the couch next to Santana. He took a large gulp and immediately started to cough.

"Easy Evans, that's not water passing through those fishy lips." Santana took a mouthful and barely managed to suppress her own cough. "The hell is this Puck?"

"I'm burning through the bad stuff first."

Sam laughed into his water bottle. "Bad? Someone is trying to poison you."

Puck took another swig and grimaced. "It does the job and it was cheap."

Puck offered the bottle to Sam who waved it off; Santana accepted it with open arms. She poured some into a cup and handed the bottle back to Puck. Sam warned her that drinking was not a good idea with her medication, but she didn't really care. The booze was liquid fire, and she had a hell of a day.

Aside from Sam harping on her about her injury, he got it in his head that Santana was abusing her pain meds. The new pain meds, which doubled as a treatment for her overuse slash dependency on her normal ones as Sam said, weren't as effective. Santana could feel every move she made, and exactly how her injury hated it.

"Here's to getting drunk."

Puck stretched out his arm to tap Santana's plastic cup. "Damn yeah!"

Sam fell back into the couch. "I think I'm already drunk."

|x|X|x|

"You're not putting me to bed like a child."

Sam shook his head and stood firm next to Santana's side. "I just wanta make sure you get there."

Santana huffed in Sam's face when didn't leave. She didn't have the energy to punch him, a combined effort from drinking and exhaustion. So instead she opened the door to her shared room. Brittany was sitting at her desk, changed out of her issued outfit and into her pajamas, apparently busy with work.

"Happy now?" Santana stumbled past the threshold.

Sam looked to Brittany, who was watching Santana totter through the room with interest. "Will you make sure she passes out in her bed, not the floor?"

"If it's the doctor's orders."

Santana made a noise that vaguely sounded like a string of words, nothing that made any sense to either of the blondes. Brittany and Sam exchanged looks while Santana fell onto her bed trying to take off her boots.

"Just to warn you, she's grumpy."

Brittany nodded and sent Sam on his way. Santana was lying on her back grumbling to the ceiling when Brittany finally turned around after locking the door.

"You need some help?"

"You need help."

"I'll take that as a no." Santana missed the woman rolling her eyes as she sat down at her desk.

Santana took a moment to collect her strength before she tried unbuckling her boots again. She nearly had one of them off when the strain from bending and stretching her new set of stitches blasted past her alcohol numbed nerves. The jolt sent her falling to the ground with a howl. She didn't have much time to admire the finer details of the flooring. Brittany dashed to her side and her hands were firm around her arms to lift her to her feet.

"You alright?"

Santana brushed the woman's hands away from her shoulders clumsily. Even with Brittany shoeless, the woman was still taller than Santana despite her boot's added inches.

"I'm fine." She dropped down to her bed and kicked off her boot.

"Does Sam normally help you?"

"I take care of myself." Once the gruff remark hung in the air between them Santana regretted it. The face of the lonely woman from early today flashed in her mind. Santana sighed with a drop in her shoulders.

"He seems like a nice guy." Brittany leaned against Santana's desk to watch her struggle with her shoes, and incase she fell again.

Santana worked her right boot off, kicking towards its mate. "I guess."

"You don't have anything nice to say about your boyfriend?"

"Hold up. You think Sam's my boyfriend?" Santana felt a huge grin on her face.

"You spend a lot time with him."

Santana shook her head. Sam was the only guy on the ship who was tolerable for more than twenty minutes. And not to mention he was infatuated with Mercedes. Why couldn't people hang out without everyone thinking that they were getting busy between the sheets?

"Yeah, well he's not my type."

Brittany smiled and took a seat in Santana's desk chair. "Well who is?"

"Someone with boobs and a vagina for starters." Santana blushed under the woman's curious stare. She shrugged off her vest to occupy herself.

Brittany hadn't said anything yet, so Santana asked her the same question. Her earlier choice of drink slurred some of the words together, which just caused Brittany's nose to wrinkle into a smile. One that Santana noted popped up without effort.

"I like people. I can find something attractive in everyone." Brittany looked away from the shorter woman and added, "some more than others."

Santana hummed and pushed herself from her bed to hang the dark red vest in her locker. Brittany's answer didn't completely disappoint her. Santana frowned into the darkness of her locker at the thought of being swayed either way on Brittany's answer.

Brittany was still on her bad side. Santana nodded into her locker as she assured herself. Brittany was her replacement. Doing her job, on her ship, with her team. But that didn't erase the fact that Brittany was attractive… and staring at her. The blonde woman clearly wasn't finished with their first real conversation. Brittany sat waiting, and Santana put together the only logical question she could come up with.

"So anyone aboard the New Directions catch your eye? Or do you have a squeeze at Windfall waiting for you." As soon as the words came out Santana suddenly possessed a morbid curiosity about the blonde's love life. That was normal though. It was how you learned more about a person, who they chose to trade salvia with.

Brittany laughed loudly. "I have squeezes everywhere. I wouldn't say any are _waiting_."

Santana shut her locker and turned back to Brittany.

"With what you're working with, I bet." Santana wasn't sure she meant to tell her that and she was positive that she didn't mean to give the woman a once over. But Brittany didn't seem to mind if the tiny smile on her lips meant anything.

Brittany chuckled and grinned towards Santana. "What about you?"

Did Quinn count? They hadn't spoken really. And Quinn made it clear that she wasn't interested in Santana. At least, nothing more than a friend. After the past few days Santana was slowly realizing what kind of hell an actually relationship with Quinn would entail. But the rejection was still stinging in her skin.

Santana realized it was taking her a bit longer than necessary to reply to the simple question. The time lapse was reinforced by Brittany's additional "you got yourself a lady friend?"

"Nothing right now." Santana felt her legs turning into jelly from the cheap alcohol, definitely not the curious stare from Brittany. So she sat back down on the edge of her bed.

"Really? I would have thought that you'd have someone." A breath and Brittany smirked "with what you're working with."

Santana tittered a bit on the edge of her bed. It was probably the alcohol, because Brittany couldn't be coming onto to her. Brittany was too pretty and as much as Santana tried to turn her into the nemesis, Brittany had really only been nice to everyone. Including Santana.

Brittany had better things to do rather than waste her time with Santana.

Santana was the worst kind of person. Selfish, rude, mean. No one in their right mind would like her. She didn't have anything to offer anyone. All she had was her title and the small team, both of which were under question currently.

Santana looked from the smiling blonde to the dark metal floor. She wasn't even enough for her own mother. Santana focused on her white socked feet dangling over the darkness. She felt her cheeks flush from her drinks and her eyes water over.

"Santana? Are you ok?" Brittany moved next to her on the small bed and sat a gentle hand on Santana's shoulder.

"I'm fine… just tired." Santana did her best to hiccup through her words.

Brittany didn't take the invitation to leave her be. In fact Santana's words just caused the woman to run her fingers over Santana's exposed neck. "You can talk to me. I won't-"

"Just leave me alone!" Santana pushed Brittany's hand off her and the woman scrambled from her side. Brittany pouted and slowly moved away to her bunk.

She did her best to silence herself, choking back her cries, and buried her face in her pillow. The pain in her leg was a dull throb. The alcohol had done well to subdue that hurt, but the drawback was that it sent her brain on a self destructive war path. The main conclusion being she was probably going to spend the rest of her life alone.

Santana would have missed it if she hadn't been listening to every move the woman made. It was just a tiny whisper, but Santana caught it. Right after the lights went out and Brittany stopped squirming in her bed there were the soft sounds of muffled sniveling from Brittany's pillow.

|x|X|x|

* * *

><p><strong>TBC<strong>

**AN: **Let me know about things and stuff. Thanks for people leaving reviews and reading.

I'll be taking a hiatus for about 2 weeks. I've got some papers to write, exams, graduate school admissions to panic about. The usual. Don't worry, I'll pick it back up and it'll be awesome. Just you wait.


	7. You Never Can Rest

**Disclaimer: see chapter one**

**AN: **Sorry for the hiatus. I'm jumping right back in.

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><p><strong>Chapter Six: You Never Can Rest<strong>

|x|X|x|

Santana groaned and rolled herself from her warm bed. After successfully rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she looked over to Brittany's empty bunk. If Brittany was up and about that meant that Santana was late. Rolling to the edge of her bed sent a rush to her temples and another drawn out groan from her mouth. Last night Santana found it particularly difficult to fall asleep. And as if the universe took pleasure in her pain, Santana woke with a massive head ache to match the bruises over her body.

She began getting ready for another day spent on the surface of ASTOR-4. The skin which was hidden behind bandages, had turned unpleasant shades of purples. Sam said that it was a good thing and would clear up pretty quickly, so she tried not to pay much mind to it as she rewrapped her leg. The task was harder than she expected; especially when every move, every tug of tight fabric over her legs and arms, grated on her hypersensitive nerves. Santana took longer than usual to dress, to the fault of her now inadequate pain killers paired with yesterday's stroll down a cliff.

Santana had just zipped up her dark grey suit when the door to her room slid open.

"What are you doing up?" As soon as Brittany stepped into the room Santana remembered every idiotic thing that happened last night, chiefly her crying in front of the Lieutenant General. Santana decided it better to not speak. Instead she pulled her hair up in a pony tail and avoided the curious gaze of the blonde woman.

"You're not going with us today if that's what you're thinking."

"What?" Santana spun around with her hands on her hips. "Why!" There was no way that Santana was going to loaf around all day. Not while Puck and Finn ran off unsupervised. Who knew what they'd get into without her.

Brittany looked puzzled for a moment. "Your leg…"

Santana clicked her tongue. "Yeah it's all fixed up now."

"No it's not. I saw it. You need to rest." Brittany shook her head and fussed over her desk as Santana sat on her bed to slip on her boots. Santana thought that it was strange; that for as _out of touch_ the woman was Brittany was surprisingly organized.

"I'm not staying here." Santana stomped her foot into her right boot, feigning a groan as a cough.

Brittany sighed and picked her tablet up from her desk. "Lieutenant do I actually have to order you to rest?"

"No." Another stomp into her left boot with an attached sarcastic smile. "Because I don't fucking need to."

Brittany shook her head again and turned to leave the room. "Lieutenant take off your suit. If I find you anywhere near the PF today I'll report you to Figgins." Brittany paused at the door, "maybe you should go back to sleep.

Once the door slid shut Santana glanced in the mirror at her tired, glossy eyes. Sleep was a good idea. But she felt herself resisting simply because Brittany suggested it. After a moment of silent debate Santana cursed to the empty room and kicked off her boots.

|x|X|x|

Santana woke later in the day. She had missed breakfast, but she wasn't feeling very hungry. She had the mind to head down to the infirmary, but Brittany's questions about her and Sam's relationship caused her to detour into the recreation room. The room was quiet with the hum of the electric running to the odd machines and lights of the large room. She eyed the equipment, but Santana wasn't stupid enough to continue agitating her injury. She was ordered to rest today.

With Brittany's command in mind she crossed the room to the lounge area. She dropped herself on the old smelly couch that graced the room. Sitting next to her was a control to the out dated game system that the boys were obsessed with. Santana picked up the controller and peered around the room. She didn't want people to get the wrong idea. It was either this or watching whatever propaganda the Republic was broadcasting at the moment.

She loaded a saved game under Finn's name with an intent to destroy any and all of his progress. Within the first few minutes Santana abandoned her initial goal and becomes lost with the game, shooting enemies left and right.

It was strange how she could give such little thought to throwing a grenade into fox hole full of people on a game, or down a field during training. How she was perfectly okay with sitting in a simulation turret and send waves of bullets into her targets. But when General Schuester told her she was going to be assigned to the Rebel front she fought it. She begged him to change it, to any assignment anywhere else. Her training Officer Holiday swayed him, after Santana ran out of Schuester's office and into Holiday's. Santana still remembers how good it felt to hear that she was being assigned to a young captain's PCIU ship.

"I thought I'd find you here." Santana's whirled around to see Quinn standing behind the couch. In the two seconds she took her eyes from the screen her character dies from a rocket launcher. "Shit."

"What are you doing?"

Santana tossed the controller to the table and turned off the game. "Nothing."

Quinn laughed and shook her head. "Pierce told me that she ordered you to stay, and I can't believe that you actually did."

"Yeah, well she was going to report me if I didn't."

"I'm glad she did, you need to rest." Santana looks away from the Captain as Quinn sits beside her on the couch. "I know everything's weird right now, but I do care for you Santana. Everyone here cares for you. Why did you try and hide that?" Quinn points to Santana's leg.

"In the words of Rachel Berry, I'm an ignoramus. Although I prefer Lauren's stupid ass bitch."

Quinn reached out for Santana's hand, but thought better of it, keeping her hands tight in her lap. "You may be a bitch, but you're our bitch."

Santana cracked a small smile. "You're kinda a bitch too."

"And that's why we're friends." Quinn chanced a small smile.

"Yeah…" Santana trailed off leaving the thought in her head, I'm just friends with everybody. She felt her mood drop, but laughter form Quinn spiked her back up. "What?"

"Did you not hear your stomach?" Quinn stood up from the couch and motioned for Santana to do the same. "Come on, let's get lunch. I told Rachel I'd met her there anyway."

Santana sat down at the table with a tray fill of lunch foods Mercedes had worked to produce. She took a slip of water from her bottle while she waited for Quinn. The Captain got held up with Mercedes. Normally Santana wouldn't be an impatient lunch mate with the Captain; however, this meant that Santana had been left in the mess hall alone with Rachel Berry.

"Are you feeling better today?" Rachel sat next to her on the bench seat picking through her salad.

"Just peachy."

"I still think it's ridiculous that you didn't get Sam to tend to your leg." Santana rolled her eyes and brought her sandwich up to her lips. "I know you didn't want to worry everyone, but it just did the opposite."

"Didn't I already receive my lecture yesterday?"

"Yes, but it will do you good to hear it again." Santana huffed and watched Quinn take a seat next to Rachel. "Right Quinn?"

"Yes." Quinn nods and picks out the onions of her salad to exchange for Rachel's croutons. "Though I think she's heard enough for today."

"Fine, but I think it would be a good idea to start a mandatory full body examinations for her when she returns from future missions. Who knows ho-"

Santana choked on her sandwich. "And who would be doing those?" She darted her eyes between the Captain and navigator.

"Sam of course."

Santana scoffed. "Yeah, no. No to the whole thing. I promise if I get hurt I won't keep it to myself. Okay?"

Rachel looked to Quinn, the two having a silent conversation. "I suppose that will do." The young woman checked the time and jumped up from the table. "They'll be checking in soon, I have to go. Will you bring me a water when you come Quinn?"

"Yeah sure." Quinn smiled and told Rachel not to worry about her tray. Santana sat quietly and watched the exchange, and then it clicked. She never saw it before, since she had her own investment in the Captain, but with Quinn acting like a dutiful servant it was beyond clear.

Santana made sure that Rachel was out of the mess hall before she asked. "Holy fucking shit."

"What?" Quinn turned to her with her fork in her mouth.

"I knew you were gay Fabray, but not that gay."

"Lieutenant—"

"Rachel Berry, really?" Quinn frowned and grabbed Santana's vest to pull her in close.

"I swear if you say one word I will kill you." Santana pushed the blonde Captain off of her. She should be feeling jealous or angry with the knowledge that Rachel Berry had just one upped her. Rachel had the Captain's full attention. But Santana was finding it hard to care. In fact, she felt like laughing.

"How long have your been pining for short stack? Let me guess." Santana chuckled, and dropped her voice. "Before the stars burned bright in the dark night, time hadn't a name and nor did I."

"I'm _going_ to kill you." Quinn hid her face in her hands, but it just caused more laughter from the Lieutenant.

It made sense; they spent an awful amount of time together. Awful in Santana's mind anyway. She supposed that it took a particular taste to enjoy Ms. Berry, one that included overly vocal, controlling, midgets. Nevertheless, it made some sense. Rachel wasn't that bad looking. And the young woman certainly knew her way about feminine wilds; Santana remembered the unfortunate times she overheard Finn talk to Puck about the navigator.

The smile dropped from her face at the thought, and her mood darkened once again.

Finn.

Rachel followed Santana's pilot around more than stink on shit. Santana never made a habit of feeling bad for other people. However, she just had the fortune of being in a similar situation so she decided that prodding the Captain further wouldn't be in good spirit. Although Quinn had brushed her off, Santana couldn't imagine not having her as a friend.

Santana kept her comments to herself and focused on her sandwich. They ate in silence until Artie appeared on the table between their trays. "Captain Fabray I have intercepted a transmission from a Republic PCIU Star Ship. It is being prepared to view at the bridge."

Santana quirked her eyebrow and shot up with Quinn from the table. Quinn hurried to the lift and told Santana to follow. Santana picked up the three trays and quickly discarded them in the sink in the kitchen, barely remembering Rachel's request for water.

Mercedes stood next to the sinks with her hands on her hips. "Who lit the fire under your ass?"

"There's a transmission from some ship." Santana paused at the door of the kitchen.

"Oh, well go on girl." Mercedes waved her off and continued tending to the kitchen.

|x|X|x|

When the lift doors opened on the bridge Santana was met with the helmeted, still face of Captain Wesley of the Warblers projected onto the main monitor. She knew those smug bastards wouldn't get very far.

Artie was still working on the feed to make it more intelligible. The video call was taken from the surface of ASTOR-3. The red sky burned behind him in the grainy image from the Captain's wrist tablet's camera. Santana thought about what could have gone wrong. The Warblers were a massive unit, the entire crew should be on the surface. They would be if they weren't stupid. Whoever gave them the mission, probably General Figgins, had to tell them that the creatures were hostile.

Artie's voice called out, "Captain I've buffered the video."

"Go on with it!" Quinn stood with one hand gripping the back of Rachel's chair. Santana was just as eager to see the message, sliding up to the opposite side of Rachel's chair.

She hoped that it wasn't good. Maybe they were abandoning the mission. The New Directions could pick it up again. Santana held her breath. The alternate of them sending a successful, mission completed, pained her more.

Finally the image of Wesley startled to life. "This is Captain Wesley Montgomery of The Warblers, Republic PCIU, Fleet 3 Ship 08."

The camera is shaky, the sky and sand behind him are moving blurs. He's running. "We are in need of immediate assistance!"

Wesley drops to the ground, taking cover from whatever is chasing him behind an outcropping of rocks. Off camera the noise of other officers dropping into the sand with haggard breaths fill the speakers. "We are on the surface of ASTOR-3, coordinates 12.34 West 1.25 North. Our—" A burst of sand bellows up, then a cry distorting the microphone and a sickening crack.

The camera is trying to focus on the torso of what Santana believed to be the now former Captain Montgomery. The tablet's camera is thrust into the air and a familiar face greets the trio watching.

"We're stranded!" Blaine's eyes are wide and panicked. Santana's lips twitch to see that his lip is busted, but the trail of blood gracing the side of his face suppresses the full smirk. He must of fell and knocked his brow on the inside of his helmet really hard.

"They sucked the PF halfway under the sand! It won't budge! We need evacuation now! The Warbler can't land here! Over half of the team is dead, more injured!" Santana watches Blaine turn his head towards a scream erupting off screen. He turns back and commands that whoever is coming to hurry. Blaine drops the arm of his Captain to the ground. Santana is able to make out three blurs of boots before the camera is pulled under the sand into darkness.

Santana bowed her head to the blinking lights of the navigation panel. "Holy shit."

"We need to go now." Quinn marched over to her chair. Santana doesn't have that ability. She can't move. Assholes they may be, but they're still people. Highly trained people. At least twenty heavily armed, highly trained, Republic Officers.

Rachel shook her head. "But our mission we need—"

"Fuck the mission Berry." Santana snapped at her. "People are dying!" They've got to try, even if they can't kill all of the beasts, they have to get the survivors out of there. As much as she hates Blaine, he doesn't deserve that kind of death. Santana once allowed these creatures to get the best of her. It wouldn't happen twice.

"Santana calm down. Rachel, send a message down to the Terra Team now, tell Lieutenant Pierce that we're responding to an SOS." Quinn stared at Rachel until the woman turned around and started the transmission.

"Santana." She moved from her position by Rachel's chair to Quinn's. "We need a plan."

Santana already had a plan blossoming in her head. Drop down and hurry back up, everybody comes back safe. New Directions gets ASTOR-3 back. These are the four key points. Easy.

Before Santana clued Quinn in she realized that she's injured. She can move, but she's not going to be much help. They're going to need another gun. Puck, her, Finn, and Brittany wouldn't be enough to pull in the wounded Warblers. Even if she allowed the nerds to come, Quinn would still have to suit up.

"You can still shoot right Fabray?" Quinn gave her a tight smile, focused over Santana's shoulder. Santana just hoped that it was a cocky smile and not something else.

|x|X|x|

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><p><strong>TBC<strong>

**AN: **Let me know about things and stuff. Thanks for people leaving reviews and reading.


	8. Behind the Door

**Disclaimer: see chapter one**

**AN: **I'm terribly sorry for such a long wait. Everything bad in the world happened to me. That's the easiest way for me to describe what happened. I tried to make this chapter a bit longer. More action, more drama, more Brittana.

But here we are. Santana is out for revenge, looking to set everything right. Save the Warblers, and get her life back. Aliens beware!

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><p><strong>Chapter Seven: Behind the Door<strong>

|x|X|x|

Santana kept close to Quinn's side, Brittany as well once the Terra Team returned to the New Directions from A-STOR 4. They all three rushed around the ship, handing out orders and taking stock of supplies, until they settled for arguing amongst themselves in the bridge.

After the nerds boarded it wasn't long that Captain Fabray was charged with responding to the SOS from the Warblers, orders sent from Windfall by General Figgins. The New Directions were the closest ship within days. It would take thirty three hours to arrive at A-STOR3 and the stranded Warblers. Quinn and Rachel managed to cut it down to an even thirty. Kurt didn't even mind the excess engine strain and fuel loss when lives were at stake, Santana knew him as a sensible man when the time called for it.

Captain, Lieutenant, and Lieutenant General, stood at the edge of the conference table in the bridge examining the map where the men were stranded in the sand. Santana suggested landing the PF directly next to the Warbler's, "there could be survivors in there."

Quinn nodded, "The team shouldn't have strayed too far from it." Quinn ran her pale hand through her hair. "Who are we bringing with us? Santana already enlisted me to the rescue squad. Lieutenant Pierce do you have any thoughts on bringing some of the Technical Specialists? Chang maybe?"

Santana looked to Brittany, who chewed on her bottom lip in thought.

The Lieutenant General had yet to change from the tight black under suit. Santana was finding it to be a small distraction. Brittany had literally ran from the bay to the bridge as to help with the logistics of the rescue mission.

"I… wouldn't want to put any of them in danger Captain, none of them have training for this situation."

The mission, Santana had to be completely focused.

Santana rolled her eyes, "We need all the help we can get. I'm estimating at least fifteen officers, maybe less by the time we get there, all of whom need help. We might have to carry the injured. I say they all come. Lauren, Mike, Tina; the whole lot."

Brittany eyes widened. "You can't be serious. After—"

"I agree with Santana." Quinn's voice was firm over Brittany's gasp. "However, Tina will not. She's been through enough."

Santana darted her eyes between the two blondes staring at her. She knew it wasn't the best of ideas to ask that Tina would come with them on the mission. But they seriously needed more hands, Santana could only be so much help. And the fact that Tina was a strong girl who didn't need to be babied, irked her.

Santana crossed her arms trying to think of another version of her argument that didn't involve her yelling. It was a silent battle, with both of the women waiting for the Lieutenant to give up. Just as Santana was opening her mouth to make her demand, Rachel called for Quinn's attention at the helm.

"Lauren and Mike, not Tina." Quinn glanced over to the short brunette waiting for her at the helm. "No one else from the crew either Santana." With that Quinn hurried to Rachel's side, ending the conversation.

Santana rolled her eyes again, and watched the Captain retreat. As if she would suggest bringing the navigator on this excursion. Rachel probably couldn't even hold a gun, never mind Quinn would be completely distracted.

The thought of the Captain tireless watching over the other woman rose bitter jealously to Santana's throat. She watched Quinn hustle to Rachel's side, squeezing the brunette's shoulder. There was no one running to Santana's rescue, no one who even cared. Sure she had friends, the crew made that clear. But she had to complete this mission perfectly to get her life back with absolutely no help. She didn't have anyone to talk to about how her life was shit. No one to give her advice on how to play this important hand she was dealt.

With a sigh Santana turned back to the conference table. Where she found blue eyes on her from across the metal table. Brittany refused to remove her gaze from the Lieutenant, which caused Santana to fidget with the map projecting on the table between them. Santana toyed with the map, not daring to look up at the woman, until quiet foot falls next to her forced her head up.

Brittany slid next to Santana with a worried expression on her face.

"What?"

"You shouldn't go either." Brittany's voice was quiet. So quiet that Santana could barely hear it over Quinn's and Rachel's hushed conversation.

"I have to go, it's my job."

"What if I order you not to go?" Brittany looked hopeful, but Santana could see that it was an empty threat. Even if it wasn't, this was Santana's chance to finally get revenge on those creatures. Matt would rest in peace. And a successful rescue could mean an end to her suspension. Above all else, the return of her pride. Santana would rather risk her life than sit on the ship while everyone did her job.

There was no way in hell Santana wasn't going. She had too. Brittany wouldn't understand that.

Santana turned to face the woman. "You'd be risking your life and the lives of everyone else. We're already shorthanded—"

"I don't care about that. I know I should— I… just don't want you to get hurt trying to prove something." Brittany's hand reached out to Santana's wrist. The woman's fingers ghosted over her skin. The only clue that the woman was actually touching her was warmth radiating from Brittany's fingers.

Santana's breath quickened because of Brittany's boldness. Brittany tugged the captured hand closer with a firmer grip.

"I'm not stupid, I know this could dismiss your suspension. I just don't want you throwing your life away for it... People _care_ for you Santana. You've got more to live for than just your job."

Santana locked eyes with the woman. With the Lieutenant General that was assigned to fix her mess. With Brittany Pierce, who Santana was sure meant to say _I care for you _not _people care for you_.

All of the strange comments. The near constant supervision Brittany feigned being charged with. It all made sense now. Santana was blinded by her vendetta to see that this woman somehow actually liked her. Brittany cared for Santana enough to beg her not to go on this mission. The worst of it was that Santana wasn't sure if she felt the same. Brittany was beautiful, but the woman would be leaving within days. It would be an amazing fling, but Santana was sure that a person couldn't settle for just once with Brittany. And after being alone for so long, Santana wasn't sure of anything. Her mistake with Quinn was evidence enough.

"Brittany—"

"Lieutenant Lopez." Artie appeared in the air above the table. His words pushed the blonde woman away from Santana. "Officer Hudson requests your presence in the bay."

Santana's mouth was suddenly dry. "Idiot probably locked himself in the damn PF again. Tell him I'm on my way."

Brittany nodded and stared down to the map, worrying her bottom lip. Santana knew that she should just leave without another word, but she had a nagging suspicion that if she asked for Brittany's support the beautiful woman would cave.

If Santana was able to recruit more people then there would a better chance of a success, a success that Santana desperately needed. Santana saw an opportunity present itself in the strange form of Lieutenant General Brittany S. Pierce. Somehow this woman cared for Santana, and Santana was willing to see how much and what lengths this woman would go for her.

After checking that Quinn and Rachel were still busy at the navigation station, Santana stepped to Brittany's side and covered Brittany's hand with hers on the table top. The woman's skin was soft and warm, so much so Santana couldn't stop herself from trailing her fingers over it.

"You know Brittany," Santana whispered into the blonde's ear. "There's strength in numbers."

The Lieutenant General closed her eyes and bowed her head. Santana's lips turned up. As she stepped away from her superior she allowed her fingers to linger on the woman's soft skin, telling herself it was only to seal the deal.

Once inside the lift descending, Santana felt her conscience eating at her. Tina would be fine, but she couldn't help but feeling as if she just used Brittany.

Santana shook her head. "She doesn't matter. She'll be gone in a week."

|x|X|x|

It was the feeling of the Lieutenant General's hand under Santana's that kept her spirits up as she sat opposite of woman's sad eyes. They had launched the PF at once when they reached ASTOR-3. Santana was strapped into a seat between Tina and Puck. Brittany gave up the comfy chair in the cockpit to Quinn, in favor of sitting across from Santana.

Santana was kept busied in the bay loading the PF with Finn. Everyone had been, Santana didn't think that anyone slept during the few hours it took to get here. With all the fury of preparing Santana hadn't had the chance to talk to Brittany at all. Which she wanted to take as a blessing, but now sitting across from her it was being to feel like a curse. Santana wanted to pull the woman away and reassure her that everything would be fine. However, the crowded bay of the PF descending to the surface was hardly the time or place.

The glass of the helmet blocked out most of the woman's face; but Brittany's blue eyes, despite being dulled, pierced through the reflective material and into Santana. Santana tried not to let Brittany's forlorn gaze to affect her, however there was only so much she could take before her own thoughts turned against her.

Santana couldn't help but think that she used the woman. No, she knew she did for a fact. And for what? An extra hand to make up for her own short comings? If she had paid more attention weeks ago, if she had made the nerds wear their protective gear… Santana clenched her jaw and pushed all thoughts out of her head. She needed to focus on the Warblers. Get them to safety and get her life back. There was no fixing the past, only righting her future.

The PF shook as Finn began to land. Quinn's voice filled her helmet. "Listen up. Stick to the plan, don't get separated. When the bay opens swarm the Warbler's PF, Lopez and Cohen holds there and the rest of us are moving east. It shouldn't be hard to find them."

Santana tried to give Brittany a weak smile, hoping that it would do the job and reassure the blonde she hadn't made a mistake. Once Brittany convinced Quinn that Tina should come, Quinn charged Santana with her safety. Brittany also demanded that Quinn order Santana and Tina to hold down that Warbler PF. Brittany deemed that the safest place and Santana couldn't complain. Especially not now.

Putting the suit on proved difficult again, and with every jar of the PF Santana found herself wincing at the ache in her leg and back. Next to her Tina clutched her rifle, something she probably hadn't used in years. The young woman's eyes screwed tightly shut and Santana vowed to protect her. Santana looked over to Brittany, who had followed her gaze, and was now wearing a frown. She made another vow to make the blonde woman smile when this was over.

Finn landed the PF in the shifting sands, and dropped the bay open. Normally Santana would have taken point, and Brittany would had as her replacement, but they both recline to let Puck lead the team rifle first out into the sandy air of A-STOR 3. Santana followed behind Finn and Mike with Tina close on heels.

The rusty orange sky opened above them, lighting up the scene before them.

Holes littered the sand surrounding the Warbler's PF. The space craft itself was nose deep in the sand. Groans of metal could be heard over the wind, as the PF shifted in the sand. Santana counted seven rifles laying on top of the sand, one of them was sticking straight up in the sand. Seven Republic assault rifles, but not a trace of the men who owned them.

Quinn voice broke the silence of the team. "Why did they leave their guns?"

Santana turned to face the Captain and then nodded to a dip in the sand. "Not much use for weapons when you're dead."

Quinn gulped and Santana noticed her tighten the grip on her gun, pressing it harder into her shoulder.

Puck signaled to move forward to the Warbler's PF cemented into the sand. Santana started to move forward, but a gloved hand halted her. Brittany pushed in front of her and motioned for Santana to stay behind her. Santana wanted to defy the woman, but she felt like she owed Brittany. If leading her through the sand eased Brittany's mind, then so be it.

As the team of eight quickly moved to the Warbler's PF, all eyes were on the ground before them. Santana and the rest of the Terra Team knew how fast a hole could appear, and how quickly the aliens could suck a person under the sand. She tried to paint a verbal picture for Quinn and Brittany, but words didn't do the aliens justice.

Santana's boot fell onto the sand, and upon feeling something prod into her sole, she quickly lifted her foot. There in the sand was another rifle, the barrel barely sticking out of the loose dirt.

Brittany turned to see why Santana had stopped, and Santana had been sure that Brittany's face couldn't look anymore stony, but more lines appeared. Brittany continued on and Santana followed her with Tina trailing after her.

They reached the Warbler's PF and Puck along with Finn circled the PF, reporting that it looked safe enough to survey.

"Alright." Quinn spun towards Santana and Tina. "Lopez, Cohen, do the search."

The Warbler bay was open, but the ramp was about six feet in the air. Tina rushed over to it, awkwardly securing her rifle on her back as Santana had, and easily climbed up.

Santana eyed the ramp. She hoped she could climb it without straining her leg and more importantly not looking like a fool. Taking a breath she lifted her hands to the edge of the ramp. She could barely reach it. A quick glance behind her showed that the team was busy surveilling the landscape, minus one.

Brittany was watching her with a critical eye. Santana rolled her eyes and jumped up only to land back on her unsteady legs.

Apparently Santana was allotted only one attempt. Brittany quickly pushed her aside and gracefully climbed up onto the ramp. She held her hands out and Santana swallowed her pride and allowed Brittany to help her up. Which turned into more of Brittany picking Santana up and setting her on the ramp, than Santana pulling herself up and Brittany assisting.

The woman's strength surprised Santana, and she was left sitting on the ramp looking down at the team. She muttered a thank you, before Puck grew impatient.

"We ain't got all day ladies. There anybody in that damn thing or what?"

Tina sloped up out of the darkness of the Warbler's PF to where Santana and Brittany stood at the entry way. "No, nothing."

Santana hadn't even realized the young woman entered the PF alone. She bristled at the thought of a monster hiding away inside and taking the young woman by surprise. "What about the cockpit or store room?"

"I said no one was in there." Tina crouched next to the pair of women.

Below on the ground Quinn snapped her head to the three. "Let's move on then"

Santana watched Brittany's fingers as they flew over her arm tablet. Then Brittany voice filtered into her helmet. "Don't leave this ship until I get back." The woman then squeezed Santana's shoulder and hopped down to catch up with the rest of the team.

"What was that about?" Santana turned to see Tina gesture between the Lieutenant General and spot where Santana was standing.

Santana squared her shoulders, "I'm going to the cockpit and try to contact the Warblers." Santana stomped past the woman. "You stay here and mind your own damn business."

The slope of the craft wasn't too bad, but the sand fallen from Santana's boots swam quickly down the incline. Whereas the ramp was in the dull light and fierce heat of the planet's star, inside the Warbler PF it was dark. Santana mentally thanked the Republic for their standardization, she knew the layout like the back of her hand.

Once her eyes adjusted to the darkness Santana could see the damage done. Equipment was thrown against the cockpit wall, but someone—Tina Santana assumed moved enough out of the way to open the cockpit door. Inside the screens flickered between white static and complete darkness, wires hung down and sparked giving off flashes of blue light.

From the strobing light Santana could see the destruction. Tears ran through the metal of the navigation and control panels, more gashes over the clothed seats, and some of the screens looked to be stabbed by something.

Turning in the small space of the cockpit, Santana's boot met something on the floor that wasn't hard metal. She snapped her head down to see the arm of Republic officer in the blinking blue light. Santana stumbled backwards, knocking into a chair and hanging wires causing them to bite at her.

Regaining her balance on the destroyed chair, Santana realized that the arm was still attached to a body. A body that was laying halfway out of a hole pooling with sand, under the control paneling. With her rifle ready, Santana crouched down and prodded the motionless body with the tip of her barrel. As the helmeted head lulled over, Santana gasped.

The man's face was twisted into frozen pain. Even with the blood and the unpleasant expression, Santana could tell it was one of Blaine's lackeys, Brent or Trent—she couldn't really remember. Santana could only assume that the creatures managed to pull the PF under the sand and tear this hole into the cockpit's control panel. One of the creatures probably tunneled into the cockpit, destroyed it and attempted to drag the poor pudgy man back through.

After taking in the state of the ruined control panel, Santana backed out of the room quietly as to not alert any lurking aliens of her presence. She found Tina perched on the ramp's edge looking over the sands at the guns and equipment left behind and destroyed.

Santana didn't want to alarm the woman, but she didn't really know how Tina missed the dead guy laying on the floor of the cockpit. Instead of yelling at her, Santana just swallowed her anger and saved it for a later time when loud noises wouldn't attract blood thirsty beasts.

However, with the discovery of the hole the Warbler PF was not the safest place for neither herself nor Tina.

"Cohen, we'll stand watch on the ground. This thing is empty anyway." Santana watched the look of terror cross the woman's face. Standing on the sand would be worrisome, but they couldn't stand there for long.

To quell her and Tina's fears Santana contacted Quinn. "Captain, have you established contact?"

The radio gurgled and after a moment Quinn's voice entered both Tina and Santana's ears. "We're approaching the group now, you stable?"

Santana chimed out her yes captain, and was pleased to see Tina's face less stressed. They'd only be a little while. Santana had looked through the Warbler Terra Team enlistment before they arrived. There was twenty two men on the roster. Minus Captain Montgomery, Brent/Trent, the eight rifles laying in the sand; that left twelve men. And Santana had her suspicions that the number was an overestimate.

Tina crouched down to drop to the sand and Santana was about to follow when she realized just how thorough Tina had been in her search. If the young woman missed the body laying in the cockpit who knew how many bodies were stacked up in the store room.

Tina dropped to the ground with a grunt and looked up expectantly at Santana. "Hold tight Cohen, I'll be right back. Keep your eyes on the ground."

Tina gulped and fumbled with her rifle, aiming it towards her feet.

Santana treaded carefully back down the slope of the PF to the store room. The door was closed, and blocked by a sample collection box. Groaning internally, Santana leaned her rifle against the wall and positioned herself to push the heavy box. The collection boxes came up to about her chest and were heavy when empty. This box looked to be thrown by one of the creatures, if the claw marks had anything to say for the reason why the box was slammed against the door. Santana placed her gloved hands on the sides of the box and pushed. To her delight it was empty and the stress did little to aggravate her leg.

The box scraped against the metal flooring loudly and the gravity of the planet pulled it to crash against the far wall. Santana mumbled a curse and hoped that the noise wouldn't invite any unwelcomed visitors.

The Warbler's PF didn't have power. So Santana picked up her rifle and shoved the butt into the crack of the door to pry it open. Just as Santana managed to pry the door open enough to slip inside the dark room, Tina's panicked voice rang in her ears.

In a flash Santana ran up to the edge of the ramp. Tina was scrambling up the ramp, but Santana was focused on the shifting sand just below her.

With all her strength, Santana pulled Tina up to roll onto the ramp just as a blade was thrust into the air where Tina had dangled. Tina stood next to Santana ready to shoot the creature.

"Wait!" Santana wanted the creature to show its ugly face. Insurance that it would get a bullet.

The spear slowly retracted beneath the surface and the sand stilled. Santana frowned, thinking the alien had moved on. But then the sand shifted again, bubbling upwards to the sky. Santana shouldered her rifled and took aim at the center of the boiling sand.

A twitching, pick tip of a nose poked out into the air, followed by a short snout and then the furry short eared head of the creature. The hair was pale, beyond blonde. Its eyes were dull grey, small and beady, completely useless. More of the creature surfaced; showing massive shoulders and finally long, powerful fur covered arms ending in huge clawed feet, one clutching the length of a spear.

The thing sniffed at the air, and suddenly whipped its short snouted head to Santana. Santana could feel Tina freeze beside her. Brittany and Quinn were both right. Tina wasn't ready for this.

The creature's muzzle opened to flash yellow coated short pointy fangs, and emitted a low growl that shook Santana to her core. The sound shook loose memories of Puck and Matt, memories of herself, and memories she would never have thanks to this creature.

Without a second thought, Santana gently squeezed the trigger. The rifle sent a spree of bullets into the alien's right eye and bursting out the back of its skull, bringing with it chucks of tissue and sprays of blood.

Santana bristled as Tina fired at the creature, screaming with each bullet. Her shots landed mostly in the sand and broad chest of the moaning thing. Santana dropped her rifle from her shoulder and let Tina finish the monster off. She kept her eyes to the sand, waiting for another to burst up and join its friend.

Scanning to her left, a shadow from behind her caught her eye. Spinning just as the thing reached out to grab the ankle of her injured leg, Santana let her shots scatter as she turned to fire into the alien. Santana's brain processed what had been crawling to her, she jerked her hand from the trigger. But the damage was done.

"Santana!" Tina's voice ringed in her ears. All the air was ripped from her lung, and time slowed down as she looked to the creature that snuck up behind her.

"No…" Santana fell to her knees, swinging the rifle over her back as she flipped her enemy.

The creature that had startled her, reached out to her, was no alien. The man was no stranger either. Laying gasping for his last breathes, bleeding out onto the ramp, was Lieutenant Blaine Anderson of the Warblers.

A sickening cough covered his helmet in blood, hiding his face from Santana's teary eyes. Blaine's hands clawed at his suit, settling on his neck where one of the bullets torn through his flesh. His legs fidgeted and twitched. His heavy boots slamming onto the ramp out of beat with his high pitched whines.

Santana felt her heart lurching in her throat. She'd never killed someone. The only living things she's ever placed a bullet inside were aliens. And even those had to pose a real threat. Santana had just killed a man reaching out for her help.

Tina pulled Santana up, "the others are coming."

Santana snapped her head to see the team. Two Warbler Officers were walking and helped another hobble along. Brittany had a man's arm over her shoulders. Puck had a man on his back missing a leg. Finn, Mike, Lauren, they were all helping a man hobble to the New Direction's PF. With the exception of Quinn who was kept her rifle ready for any threat. Tears stung Santana's eyes, blurring the vision of her teammates.

Santana should have been helping Blaine onto the ground and to the safety of the PF. Instead she shot him. Santana shot him nine times. She shot Blaine Anderson nine times. She shot him so poorly that the man was still gurgling and kicking, fighting his slow death.

Santana watched Blaine struggled until his last breath. There was nothing to do for him. Santana could see that he had already been seriously injured, from the looks of it a spear to his gut. He must have been in the PF, trying to make a second SOS perhaps, when the aliens came through the hole. Then he got hurt and hid himself in the store room.

Santana didn't notice the team approach. She didn't hear them congratulate Tina and herself for killing one of the aliens. She didn't hear any of the comments about how it was ugly and deserved a worse fate. All Santana heard was the questioning voices of the Warbler officers.

"Blaine and Trent were supposed to be in there." A small blonde man spoke.

Another man who seemed uninjured and holding the blonde man up informed to Quinn that "Lieutenant Anderson had set off to send a second SOS, Fields accompanied him."

Santana stared down to the Warbler's dead Lieutenant.

Hands turned her around, and she was faced with the worried face of the Lieutenant General. Brittany looked from Santana to the dead man on the ramp. Santana tried to blink away the tears, but there was no changing the marks from bullets and ones inside Blaine that came from her gun. Without another thought Santana fell into the woman's chest and wrapped her arms around her, pleading Brittany to make it go away.

Santana had come here to clear her name. Now she smeared it with blood.

"Santana… You—" Brittany was cut off by Quinn.

"Lopez, Cohen move it. Pierce come back and get this man. We're not wasting anymore time!" Santana looked down to Quinn helping steady a man on his feet. Her face was firmly placed into indifference.

Brittany nudged Santana to the edge of the ramp. Santana took a deep breath to ease the tension in her head and climbed down. She couldn't even put forth the effort to appear not to need Brittany's steadying hand as she jumped down to the sand.

"Everything will be okay." Brittany told her before she shuffled the Warbler officer from Quinn's shoulder to her own.

Santana couldn't believe that it would ever be okay. She just murdered someone. Accidently, yes. But a man was still dead at her hand. A hand that was already under scrutiny of the United People's Republic Military tribunal courts.

Santana caught up with the team and fell into step with her two officers. Puck caught her eye, but he quickly looked away with a frown on his face. Santana glanced over to Finn who was looking dead ahead, unwilling to look to his superior. She turned her gaze to her boots. The sand absorbing Blaine's red blood staring up at her.

Everyone moved quickly and little was said. Even less was said to Santana.

|x|X|x|

Safely inside the New Direction's PF the eight Warbler officers were strapped into the flight seats, leaving the New Direction officers and technical specialists to sit on the floor and hold on to what they could for the quick flight back to the ship. Brittany pulled Santana down against the wall to sit next to her. Not that anyone else was wanting the Lieutenant near them. Santana slammed her helmet against the wall. Her hot silent tears hadn't stopped. She didn't think they could.

Beside her Brittany's fingers tapped on her arm tablet, connecting to Santana's private radio channel once again. Quietly Brittany spoke, treading carefully. "Did you know him?"

"Yes."

"Were you two friends?" Brittany had genuine concern and sympathy for Santana.

Santana coughed out a laugh. Her and Blaine being friends was saying that water and oil mixed well and tasted great. "No, the exact opposite."

Brittany took Santana's hand in hers once Finn managed to keep the PF from rocking back forth in the gusts of winds. "Please stop crying."

"I just killed someone. They're dead because of me." Santana pulled her hand away. She didn't deserve anyone's sympathy, especially not Brittany's.

"Didn't Tina tell Captain Fabray you saved her life?" Santana hadn't been paying attention, but she supposed Tina must have.

Santana nodded and let Brittany continue. "Where you not in a hostile situation?"

"Friendly fire, is friendly fire Brittany. There's no changing what happened. Blaine came out of nowhere and I shot before I looked." Santana's tears picked back up. "Not only did I end his life, but I sealed the end of mine too."

Brittany glanced around the room, and looked at Santana like she had a terrible secret. "Santana I won't let anything happen to you. I promise."

Santana shook her head. There was no way that Brittany could promise anything like that. Immunity from murder charges? Santana knew there was no way for Brittany's merger Lieutenant General title to influence anyone high enough to clear her name. But she couldn't tell Brittany her doubts. She'd already used Brittany once and it blew up in her face. Tina did almost get hurt, and Santana put the poor woman through more psychological trauma by having murdered Blaine Anderson at her feet. So to ensure that her mouth wouldn't betray her, Santana kept silent for the duration of the flight back to the New Directions.

|x|X|x|

Once boarded, Santana, Puck, and Finn were charged with escorting Warblers to the infirmary where Sam and Mercedes attended to them. The rest of the crew dispersed to other duties. Quinn returned to the bridge with the uninjured third in command of the Warblers, Sebastian Smythe. After each of the injured men were taken care of Santana escaped to her room and quickly changed.

Just as she was sliding her vest over her tired arms, the door opened. Santana turned to find Quinn standing in the doorway, expressionless, with a flushed Brittany at her side. To Santana Brittany looked angry, like the early morning the woman had been talking to her father.

"What Fabray?" Santana tried to make her voice as cold as possible, but even to her ears her voice sounded cracked and broken.

"You'll have to come with me Santana."

"Where?"

"I'm ordered by General Figgins to place you in lock up." Quinn's unwavering gaze chilled Santana more so than the orders.

"What? Why?"

"Upon request I was ordered to give a detailed report of the fate of the Warbler Officers. After hearing Lieutenant Blaine Anderson's cause of death, the General requests you be incarcerated until we reach Windfall." Quinn stepped out of the doorway and motioned for Santana to follow before she started down the hall.

Santana couldn't believe her ears. Yet, her feet moved after her Captain. At the door Brittany caught her wrist and stopped her.

"I told them the situation. But they still—"

"No Brittany, you can't change this. I'm a fuck up, this is what I do." Santana pulled her hand free from the woman and continued to the lift where Quinn was waiting to descend to the least used level on the ship.

Quinn didn't say anything on the ride down. Nor did she say anything as she strode through the narrow corridor to the New Direction's small detention center. The Lieutenant had nothing to say for herself. She was guilty. That was that. Santana couldn't even open her mouth to ask for Quinn to forgive her for ruining the team's creditability. For screwing up. Santana didn't think she deserved it.

Santana was on the same level as the men who long ago slaughtered her father. The same level as the men whose blood lust drove her mother to suicide. In the back of her mind she wondered how many people would crumble in the wake of Blaine's death.

They made their way to the single cell on the ship, hidden within the belly of the ship and long forgotten. Dark thoughts occupied Santana's mind as she walked. Quinn keyed in the code to open the cell door, a large grey metal barrier with a small window and food slot. As the heavy door slid open Quinn placed a hand on Santana's back and ushered her into the room.

Santana took two steps into the bare room and turned to face Quinn. The Captain took a breath and pressed the key to close the door. Before the door slid shut Santana was finally able to speak and Quinn's face finally cracked into sorrow.

"I'm sorry."

|x|X|x|

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><p><strong>TBC<strong>

**AN: **Let me know about things and stuff. Once again sorry for the long wait, and because I wanted to push this out so fast I'm sure there are some errors lurking [be nice and point them out for me]. But I'd like to know what you think of Santana rotting away in a cell. As fic projections goes, I feel that there's about two or so chapters left.


	9. Swept Under

**Disclaimer: see chapter one**

**AN: **Long time no see. I feel like I owe you all some sort of explanation. So you know when you're going to college and you try to think about what happens after you graduate, but you just end up procrastinating until the last day at the university. Yeah… so I'm apparently an honest to goodness real adult now, and need shit like a real job and an apartment. To thwart my unwanted adulthood I've enrolled into a Master's program. Which we'll see how that goes in the fall.

Basically I'd had zero time, all the stress I could possibly want, and not very much inspiration.

I do want to thank everyone who's left me a PM or review for Asteroid Blues. I appreciate your thoughts and I enjoy hearing them. Especially cbatton and peebrain, who gave me a kick in the right direction.

Once again I have no beta, meaning loOkout for errors. Ignore them or fix them in your brains. I also suggest a quick scan from chapter 7, just to refresh yourselves, because we're jumping straight in.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight: Swept Under<strong>

|x|X|x|

The moment the metal door locked Santana collapsed to her knees. She curled into herself as she tried to keep her shaky breaths under control. Her fingers gripped at her tangled hair. She didn't care that it was tight enough to pull it from the roots. She needed something to hold onto, and if it was going to be pain then so be it. A groan broke through her lips. She couldn't break yet; she had to at least last long enough for Quinn to leave the corridor outside her cell. As the sound of Quinn's footfalls grew softer, Santana's resolve wore down. Santana kept her composure for a few seconds before angry, hot tears rolled down her cheeks.

The quiet of the cell echoed back each choked sob, and fueled others to race out of her aching chest. The grey walls stared down at her in shame, magnifying the guilt within her. Santana squeezed her eyes shut against the flickering lights. Her only way of hiding from the world. But in the darkness of her mind she found only one thing.

Blaine Anderson's death.

The event was replayed in her mind on a continuous, horrifying loop. The frantic jerk of his eyes boring into her own. The curling of his fingers at his ripped throat. The mad kicking of his legs against her bullets lodged inside his chest.

"No. No, no, no."

Santana cried into her cell. Each repetition grew stronger, as did the pain in her chest. Tina's frightened face flashed in her mind. The woman's face was soon followed by Puck and Finn's looks of disgust.

"No." Her fist met the unforgiving floor as she remembered Quinn's crumbling eyes not a minute ago.

"No!" Santana grunted against her tears. In less than a second, with a spree of unhindered bullets, Santana ruined her entire career. She had blasted away her life's work. And with her she brought down the integrity of the entire crew.

"No!" Santana punched the ground again and pushed herself to stand.

Quinn had worked so hard to earn her title. Santana knew all too well of the struggles she had to overcome to achieve her own stripes. Quinn's fight had to be just as difficult. And now Santana's infraction would question the Captain's ability to control her crew. She then thought of Puck and Finn, who would never hear the end of her stupid mistake no matter where they went. Her tears turned into a more manageable form, anger. Santana spun around, searching for something suitable to release her rage upon. She'd be the ass end of jokes. Her stupidity would be among the stories for Sergeants to scare new recruits.

Her entire body shook.

The New Directions would never have the chance to reclaim the A-STOR3 mission, they'd never have the chance to avenge Matt's gruesome death. Santana lunged to the door of her cell, slamming herself against it, punching and kicking.

Artie's voice sounded over her barrage, "Lieutenant Lopez, I must request you to stop or you'll receive disciplinary action."

"No!" Santana's mantra wasn't directed to Artie, but to herself. She had to get out and fix her mess. She couldn't let it end this way.

"Lieutenant."

Santana focused on the heavy metal door, ignoring Artie's warnings. She continued to slam against the cell door. Her angry fists pounded the door until she felt her body grow unnaturally weak. Her fingers uncurled from balled fists, her arms were sucked of their power, her legs lost their will to stand, and she collapsed onto the ground. Santana's eyes searched the walls until it landed on a small circular grate near the ceiling next to a tiny blinking light.

"Lieutenant, I've released an incapacitative agent into the air for your protection."

Artie's fuzzy words wormed into Santana's ears as her eyes drooped close. Instead ofBlainewaiting for her in the darkness, Santana found clear blue eyes tinged with worry.

"No."

Santana failed so many people.

|x|X|x|

_Hot wind swirls around her, but she can't feel the heat upon her skin. All she can feel is the weight of her armor, the gun grasped in her arms, and her legs trudging through thick sand. It's all too heavy and uncomfortable she knows if she were to remove her suit the air would turn her skin to dust. _

_"It's just over this dune Lieutenant." She turns to a faceless soldier passing her by. She stops and watches the rest of the mindless troop as they begin climbing the embankment. _

_Standing upon the top of dune, she feels so much taller, she can see where her soldiers are marching. _

_A huge ship crashed into the sandy plain. Smoke billows from the engines. Fires dance along the sand and lick up the ship's hull. Only the United People's Republic emblem is untouched by the destruction. The intertwined UPR, the red trident, gleams in the bright light. _

_She turns around still standing on the dune. Following the footprints of the troop's path, her eyes linger on a dark spot in the sand. Her rifle scope is already in her face. Focusing on the curious area she sees the disturbed sand and a dip. No, larger than a dip— a hole. _

_She feels her throat tighten. Desert dirt is thrown into the air and a man's head comes into her scope's view. His arms erupt from the hole as he calls out. She wants to drop the rifle and run to him. But just as the plea escapes his lips, a large clawed hand envelopes his face and pulls him and his screams under the sand. _

_"Lieutenant, the ship." A soldier at her side commands and then moves to join the rest. _

_She quickens her pace, hurrying to the ship with her head down. Her soldiers, men and women with hard blank faces, march with ease out in front of her. Her feet move faster in the thick, sinking sand. She can't be left behind. _

_Suddenly closer to the ship, she spins. Her troop is far off in the distance shuffling slowly towards her. _

_She turns to the open bay of the ship, determined not to wait for her bossy soldiers. Stepping onto the metal, her footing slips. She staggers and rights herself before she falls. The next moment she nearly drops to her knees at the sight at her feet. Blood, dark and slick, is pooling across the bay. Her arms pull her rifle into position. She searches the open air for an enemy. She finds only the tired, lifeless body of a man. The man is curled into himself, blood flowing from the cracks of his suit. _

_She pulls her gloves off to help him. As the fabric tears from her skin, nothing happens. Nothing burns the pale flesh from her hands; nothing turns her long fingers to dust. She just watches her pale hands race to the man's chest. A sudden cry stops her from identifying the dead man at her feet. _

_The call comes from deep within the ship. She turns her attention back to the empty bay, the body and blood gone. She forgets it just as quickly. Her legs run into the darkness looking for the person crying out to her. The light fixed onto the length of her rifle shines a narrow spotlight. Walking slowly into the belly of the ship, she sees only the perfect order of the Republic. Neat rows of cargo and the color coded piping along the walls, nothing to cause the crying she hears. _

_Reaching the back of the bay, she startles at the sound of the lift. She poses her gun ready to attack whatever has crawled up from within the ship. The gears squawk as they carry their heavy load into the dim light of her rifle. Standing in the rusted cage is a woman; blonde hair and red cloth reflecting in the spotlight. She doesn't drop her gun from her shoulder. She only clenches it tighter as another wail rips from the depths of the ship. _

_The woman in the lift raises her hand, bidding her closer. She wills herself to drop her gun to her side and forces her feet forward to follow the silent woman. She enters the lift and puts as much space as she can between herself and the woman. The woman closes the gate, sending it to crash against the latch. The blonde's fingers spasm over the keys and the gears are coming to life again. The lift is dropping so much faster than it should. Dropping so much further than it should. Her stomach flies into her throat. Her hands search for something to grasp in the falling cage. All the while, the blonde woman does nothing but stare at her with a sickly sweet smile. _

_With a jerk the lift stops, the gate slamming open. Before she has time to question, another cry comes out of the dark in front of her. The blonde woman vanishes from her side. She takes a step into the putrid air of the long, tapering corridor. The light of her rifle flickers until it dies along with the fading cries. Now all she hears are whimpers. _

_Her rifle falls to the floor, along with her helmet and armor, lost in the unending darkness. Her hands find the edges of pipes vining on the walls, as she follows the soft cries. Those cries are her only guide, each one pulling her closer and closer. She feels a door under her fingers, hears the pleas emerging from behind. With a flick of her fingers over a small keyboard near the entryway, the metal zips open._

_Bright light illuminates the tiny, empty room. It blinds her for a moment. Then she sees the room is void except for a woman piled in the center of the room crying into her hands. Dark locks flow over the woman's bare tan shoulders. The weeping woman makes no show of acknowledging her presence. The soft cries still plea with her, begging her closer. Her boots fall heavily against the metal flooring, jolting the crying woman from her tears. _

_The woman's face falls further into distress. Fat tears roll down swollen round cheeks, dipping along pouting lips. The woman closes her eyes as tears seep from them. She feels herself kneel down before the woman, tilting a soft chin upwards with her hand. She feels the woman's trembling hands slide around her neck. Finally the woman opens her eyes. _

_She meets dark brown watery eyes, reflecting the miserable world around her. And in those scared brown eyes she sees her salvation, fierce blue determination veiled in blonde cascades. _

|x|X|x|

Santana lifted a tired hand to rake through her sweat drenched hair. Shaking the eerie feelings of her dream, she tried to remember what she can. Most of it is lost. Only the heartache, fear, and odd sense of hope lingered. Every time she lost another fight against her strained, tired eyes she has the same dream. And every time she woke from it the emptiness inside her grew.

She tore away the thin blanket and sat against the wall. Even though the blanket was thin and she had long ago kicked off her pants, she was hot. The entire cell was hot. Santana focused on the door to her cell, trying to calm herself down from her dream. For the first time since entering her cell she wondered how much time had passed. Santana didn't know whether it was going slowly or quickly, it didn't feel like either. After the gas wore off, she climbed into cot in the corner of the cell. That was a while ago, at least a day, and she hadn't really moved. Sure she could piece together the clues of the days comings and goings. Whenever a portion of cold food was pushed into her cell she could have marked it in her mind. She could have kept track of the times Sam softly called to her through the door.

But she didn't.

Santana chose to lie on the hard cot and stare up into the lights until she couldn't hold her eyes open any longer. Occasionally she moved to the other side of the cell to drink from the tasteless water and relieve herself. She didn't even bother with the medicine Sam left for her. She had bigger problems than her aching leg. For now Santana only knew her screaming thoughts and hellish dreams.

The strangeness of her dreams, which she could never fully remember, and her fading hope were her only companions. If she had to choose, Santana thought that neither would be the best option. But there was a part of her that waited for the dream to come, for the end. What would someone else do if all this shit happened to their life? Maybe she was going mad.

Santana shook her tangled head.

She needed to think. She ground her palms into forehead, as she forced logic to happen behind her skull. They had to be close to Windfall now. She needed a plan. She needed something to work with. The four walls surrounding her gave her no clues. Did she have formal charges filed against her now? Santana thought of the rumors she'd heard of the ways the Republic handled cases such as hers. Swift, certain, and severe were the only words in the Republic's criminal justice department. Would she stand in front of a judge while they sentenced her to death? Or would she arrive at Windfall and be disposed of before she killed anyone else? Who else would be brought down with her? Surely Quinn would be reprimanded, but perhaps not. What ofBrittany?

Santana frowned. She had coercedBrittanyinto bringing Tina, almost getting the girl killed. Santana turned to glare at her pillow as her mind replacedBlaine's lifeless face with Tina's. What if Tina had been the one to spook her in the Warbler's PF? What if one of her bullets trailed through the young woman? They could had both been killed.

Santana threw the pillow across the cell. She was already getting off track. She killed Blaine, not Tina. Almost didn't count. Taking a deep breath Santana eased back into putting together her jagged . The Lieutenant General was important. Santana needed to figure out the extent ofBrittany's told her that she'd take care of this whole mess, as if she could make it all disappear. Santana figured she had some sway, but really she was just a Lieutenant General. She was charged with Santana's previous command and all of Santana's actions until her suspension was terminated.

Santana swore she heard the pieces click together in her brain and echo inside her cell.

Brittanycould be blamed for this. The thought made her blood freeze and her jaw drop. Why hadn't she thought of that before?Brittanymust know that its' her head on the table too, not just Santana's. No wonder the woman wanted Santana to not worry about anything. She'd been scheming from the start!

Santana clenched her fists in a weak attempt to quell her anger. While Santana was sitting in here with no contacts to the outside worldBrittanywas plotting. Twisting the facts in her favor, doing everything she could to get the fuck out of dodge. What made Santana the most frustrated is that she almost believed the woman. She almost believed thatBrittanywas honestly going to help her. Whatever guilt Santana still had for using the woman vanished, along with whatever microscopic feelings she had for Brittany. For all she knew, Brittany had been screwing with her. Maybe it was the way she dealt with all of her suspended Lieutenants.

Santana jumped to her feet and took a step towards the door. She quickly realized that there was nothing she could do. Not in here. Her shoulders slummed, and she turned back to sit on her cot. She would have to wait until someone opened the door. And then…

"Maybe it's safer in here."

Just as Santana mumbled the words to herself, the cell door zipped open.

Brittany stood in the doorway dressed in her formal uniform. Santana didn't see Brittany's tired smile or the duffel bag in her into the cell, the door closed, and all Santana saw was red.

Santana flew across the room fist blocked Santana's swipe with her forearm and pushed the scowling woman into the wall. Santana slumped against the wall for a moment before regaining her bearings and lunged towardsBrittanyagain.

The second attack was just as wild as the first, but sorely lacking the needed wide eyed as she dodged Santana's swings.

"Holy shi—"Brittanyjumped out of the way one of Santana's mad kicks. The kick tore a groan out of Santana, reminding her that her leg was in no way healed. Santana swallowed the pain, and turned back toBrittany.

"Lieutenant Lopez I must request you stop, or receive disciplinary action." Artie's voice blanketed the room as the two women fought. It was the sudden intrusion that tookBrittany's attention from Santana that allowed her to finally sweep the woman off her feet.

Brittanymade a surprised noise as she fell to the floor, but she was quick to get up. She was fast, so much faster than Santana behind Santana in a second and caught her in hold that she couldn't break. She struggled and was quickly realizing the consequences of not eating for so long.

"Lieutenant Lopez will receive nothing of the sort while she's in my custody! Surveillance and monitoring of this cell will stop now."

"Captain Fabray—"

Santana tried a final time to break free of Brittany's hold. She pulled her arms with all her strength, but it only resulted in a snapping her hold, twisted Santana's wrists and pulled her firmly to her chest.

"That's an order from General Figgins if Captain Fabray wants to question my commands."Brittanygrowled the end of her statement into Santana's hair. The hot air at the back her neck drew the last ounce of fight from her.

"Understood Lieutenant General."

Santana slumped backwards into Brittany's chest. Brittany sighed into Santana's hair. "If I let you go, will you stop trying to kill me?"

Brittany's hold was already weak, and Santana felt the woman's fingers slacken as she spoke. She nodded and slowly slid out ofBrittany's gentle grasp. Any other day, any other situation Santana could have kept her cool and turned around to fire an insult. But today she was locked in cell for killing a fellow soldier and had just concluded a ridiculous fight with a woman that held her noose.

So Santana let go. She didn't even have the energy to do more than let water trail down her cheeks. Santana was so hopelessly lost.

"I didn't hurt you did I?" Brittany's voice thick but soft enough to make Santana face her. "Have they been…"

Brittanyrambled off a long list of things that could happen to a prisoner, more than a few completely made-up and meant to make her laugh. But Santana was silenced with astonishment. Brittany was faced with a woman that has killed an innocent man, gotten her teammate either seriously injured or killed, disrespected her, and above all else could be her downfall.

"Santana?"Brittanysnapped her from her thoughts.

"Is it your leg? It still looks pretty… purply-greenish."Brittany's mouth twisted as she pointed to the injury that hadn't been allowed to heal properly.

Santana glanced down to her legs. Staring back up at her was the bruised skin Brittany was focused on, but along with it was a lot more skin than Santana was comfortable with flaunting. She felt heat rise to her wet cheeks and she quickly lied, "no it just looks gross."

"Then why are you—"

"I'm fine!" Santana wiped away her tears and stepped around Brittany to pull on her pants piled at the foot of her cot.

"You decided to have a pants party in here?" Santana paused in her task to turn toBrittany. The woman's face was scrunched in thought aimed at the pants she was currently pulling on. "A no-pants party?"

Santana blinked and continued fixing her pants with her back turned to the blonde. A second laterBrittanyprodded her back with a finger. Santana turned to see her offer to help her into Santana's discarded red the vest up, but Santana swiped it from her hands.

"I can dress myself." Her voice was thick from her latest crying spat.

"Dress..." Santana caught the smirkBrittanyhad on her face as she watched her pull the vest over her arms. "And undress."

Santana barely managed to contain her eye roll. She couldn't be sure if Brittany was trying to cheer her up or what. Did Brittany come in here to leer at here? What was the point of all bouncing her from side to side. Commanding her, concerned for her, flirting with her, what did she want?

Her arms crossed on reflex. She could get through this without crying again. Santana couldn't keep falling apart in front ofBrittany. She had to be in control.

"Why are you here?"

Brittany looked at her blankly and pointed to the dropped duffel bag near the door as if the gesture and the fact that the bag existed answered all of Santana's questions.

"To give me a bag?"

"No, well yeah." Brittany turned from Santana and retrieved the bag from the ground, offering it to her. "We're a couple hours from Windfall now."

Santana took the bag and unzipped it to find her dress uniform, along with shirts and other items she was in need of. She rummaged through the bag Brittany had packed her and tried to grasp why the woman had delivered it to her.

"Is everything there? I was in a rush to get you out as soon as I could." Santana closed the bag and held it to her chest. She glanced up to Brittany's face, which had fallen into panic. "We still have time to stop by your room, or do whatever you want. I'm sorry it took so long, Captain Fabray was being a bitch—"

"I don't understand…" Santana's voice softened again. She had tried to keep her control, but it seemed impossible. With Brittany there was no control.

"Uh, Captain Fabray isn't the easiest person to talk to?"

"No, I know that." Santana dropped the bag to the cot and tried not to think about the little smile that jumped to Brittany's lips. "I mean, why are you taking me to Windfall? Shouldn't Quinn?"

Brittany straightened up a bit, and if Santana hadn't been worried about her personal longevity she would have thought the stance to be Brittany's business look. "You're my prisoner. Technically yesterday you were. I've lobbied with General Figgins to switch your custody status from the New Directions to mine. However, Captain Fabray has been very uncooperative. She wouldn't allow you out of the detention cell until we were in Figgins' physical jurisdiction…"

Each word following _you're my prisoner_ barely managed to be registered and processed in Santana's mind. She felt her eye dart across the room as it spun around her.

Nothing could be worse than this. Now she's sure that Brittany meant to keep her mess very neat and clean. She's sure that Brittany meant _no one will know what happened to you_, not her promise of _nothing will happen to you_. With Quinn standing at her side Santana had a flicker of hope that she would keep her life. Being Brittany's prisoner meant being sorely out gunned. The Lieutenant General no doubt had serious connections at Windfall. At that thought she remembered the quick conversation Figgins and Brittany had on the first day she met the blonde.

Santana startled out of her thoughts by Brittany's hands on her shoulders, fingers delicately brushing her tangled hair from her vest. "Santana? What's wrong?"

Everything's wrong. Santana wanted to say that, but really what choice did she have? At the moment she didn't know if she even had the right the question the fairness of her life. It seemed pointless to fight any longer. Brittany would do as she wanted, and Santana would face whatever punishment the Republic and the Tribunal Courts deemed fair. Whether it would be fair for Santana probably wouldn't even be their concern.

Santana stiffened as Brittany held firm and searched her face for clues. Maybe Santana wouldn't get an opinion or choice in the matter, but she should at least get to know the whole damn story.

"Why… What are you getting out of this?" She'd be a passive prisoner if she could just know. Brittany had so many sides, and Santana was too exhausted to try and figure how all the pieces came together.

Instead of an answer, Santana's question was rewarded with confused silence. Brittany's hands slipped from her shoulders and took a step back. "I don't know what—"

"Don't play stupid with me!" Santana's quick shout twisted Brittany's face, and caused her to take a second step back. Asking nicely wasn't going to work with Brittany, and Santana was damn good at yelling. Even if it meant crying while she did it.

"I know they can hold you responsible for this! I know! Just tell me what you plan to do with me? A scapegoat? Fallout? Which is it!"

Santana's chest heaved as she waited for Brittany to answer her. Brittany could at least be honest. Brittany could do something else other than stare down at the floor. Santana clenched her fists at her sides and stepped in front of the taller woman. "Say something!"

Brittany's head snapped up at the words spat into her face. Hard blue eyes met Santana's. Santana had to steady herself from backing away as Brittany stepped closer to her.

"I promised you that I'd fix this. Yeah, that might include my ass too, but that still includes you. Trust me when I say nothing will happen to you."

Santana blinked away a tear. "Why should I trust you?"

Brittany's gaze locked with Santana's. There was something in it. Santana had seen that look before somewhere, in someone she trusted. Her dream came back in full, from the first horrible second to the last heart aching minute. She could place those eyes now, she understood exactly what Brittany's words meant; but she couldn't believe it. Santana had trouble getting the next word out; her tongue was twisted along itself.

"Why?" Santana plead to have a real answer.

Brittany's eyes softened for a moment and flicked down her face. Santana only had a moment to steel herself as she saw Brittany take in a breath and close the gap between them. Santana's eyes were wide as she watched Brittany inch closer, and they quickly slammed shut once Brittany's lips fell onto hers. It was rough and dry, but it liquefied Santana's insides. She felt Brittany ease a fraction away, but then she quickly returned with more force. Wet lips brushed over hers, moving unhindered, and stirred Santana's to do the same. Brittany's hands cupped her cheeks, and her mouth was pressed more confidently against Santana's.

The air that was inside of Santana's lungs long ago escaped. She was reeling from the kiss, and unwilling to break it so soon. The way her legs trembled and her stomach dropped to the floor was too good to stop. This kiss was something she hadn't felt in a very long time, maybe never before. Fearing that she would pass out, Santana brought her hands up to cover Brittany's. The smooth wet lips pulled away at Santana's touch, but Brittany's hands were left to cradle her face.

Santana looked shyly down at the floor as Brittany thumbed over her bottom lip. Brittany's kiss lasted only a moment, but it had done severe damage to Santana's brain and heart she feared.

"Sorry, sometimes words get confusing." Brittany had a scared smile on her face. "But you get it right?" Santana didn't know what Brittany had to be afraid of. Santana gave her a weak smile in return, telling herself that she was just out of sorts at the moment from Brittany suddenly kissing her.

"Yes." Santana gripped Brittany's wrists and slowly lowered them from her face. "Actually no. I have no idea what's going on."

Santana watched as Brittany's face fell. "I mean, I gather what…" Santana motioned between the two of them. It seemed unfitting for what just happened and she actually had no idea what the kiss really meant, but she did it anyway. There were more important matters, like life and limb than affairs to think about. The kiss had broken apart Santana's mental puzzle and she was left with scattered pieces again. "What's going to happen with me at Windfall? Do you know what Figgins plans to do with me?"

Santana hated that her voice sounded so small, but Brittany seemed not to mind. "That's a tricky question." Brittany's eyes lit up. "Would you prefer a verbal answer or…"

Santana laughed. A real, honest laugh. Something she hadn't done in very long time. "Use your words for this one." She almost laughed again at the way Brittany seemed so excited with her answer.

"As you wish, but let's get a change of scenery." Brittany slipped around her to pick up the duffel bag and ordered Artie to open the cell door. "Unless you like it in here."

Santana realized that she was standing dumbfounded in the cell. She hurried to shove her feet into her boots and followed Brittany out of the cell. It was weird walking down the corridor, she'd been locked away in a room for the better part of four days and now she was out. The air seemed fresher and the lights brighter. In the lift as they were pulled up to the quarters, Santana felt trapped again until Brittany placed a hand on her shoulder and let it slip down her back. Brittany led her to their shared room, on the pretense that Santana would want a shower before they left.

"You ready to hear the plan now?"

Santana nodded as she collected a few items to take with her into the showers. She was thankful that Brittany had waited until she got over her thrill of reinstated freedom, something that she hoped wouldn't be taken away in the next few days.

Brittany sat on Santana's desk as she watched Santana gather a towel and soap. Maybe she was a fool, but she really did believe that Brittany would do everything she could to keep her safe. Santana looked at Brittany's tired but happy face, and decided that there were worst things than a fool to be at the moment.

"So what's your grand master plan Lieutenant Pierce?"

"Well, you should be happy to hear that I've managed to consolidate both your suspension and… the friendly fire incident." Santana couldn't help but stiffen at Brittany's wording. How easy it would have been for Brittany to had said murder charges instead.

"Why is that good?" Santana spun around and worried that the judges would take two seconds to decide that she was no good. It seemed like stacking the odds against her. Or laying out all her wrong doings and asking someone to overlook them.

"You only have to appear once and then you're done?" Brittany flipped her ponytail across her shoulders and shrugged.

"You mean I'm done for. Figgins already hates me." Santana slammed her locker shut, ready to slam something else.

"Figgins isn't involved with this." Brittany caught hold of Santana's wrist and pulled her down into the chair sitting at the desk.

Santana huffed, but let Brittany guide her down into the seat. "He's the general of Windfall, of course he's sitting on the Tribunal Court."

"We're not going to Windfall." Brittany smiled. She smiled like she was trying to make Santana smile with her own lips. But it just confused Santana.

"Yes we are. Unless we suddenly switched ships, because I highly doubt that Quinn's taking me anywhere else."

Brittany waved her hand in front of her face. "Captain Fabray is dropping us off. We're stopping at Windfall to pick up my stuff and then—"

"Why?" Santana grasped hold of Brittany's hand and pulled it down onto the table top. The move did what Santana hoped; Brittany had a tendency to ramble and Santana's hold focused her.

"We're heading to the Capital."

"The Capital." Santana felt the words leave her dried mouth.

"Yes."

"Do you want me dead?" Brittany frowned at her, and Santana was surprised to find herself apologizing quickly. "I mean, why the change in venue?"

Brittany's face faltered, but Santana stayed quiet. Her fingers skated over Brittany's thin wrists as she waited for her to speak. "That's just where we have to go. There are three judges hearing your case. General St. James, and two other people."

"You don't even know their names?" Santana didn't mean for her words to carry a sting. But they did.

Brittany bristled and shot up from the desk, jerking her hand away from Santana's. "Does it matter what their names are? They're turning a blind eye to all of this."

"I guess not…" Santana dropped her eyes from Brittany and to the corner of the room as the woman stomps to the door.

Santana heard Brittany let out a heavy sigh and sees that she had stopped at the door. "Sorry, I just… I'll meet you in the bay okay? No need to rush."

Santana watched Brittany walk out the door with worry. Worry that for the first time today wasn't focused on herself. Santana wasn't stupid. She knew that the Republic was far off from being free of corruption. Santana picked up her towel and soap from her desk and made her way to the showers. All the while she tried not to think of what Brittany had lost to pay off three Capital judges.

|x|X|x|

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><p><strong>TBC<strong>

**AN: **Let me know about things and stuff.

btw the dream segment was Santana's, she was dreaming of being Brittany and finding herself inside the ship. I just wanted to make that clear.

Before you ask, I don't know when the next chapter will be out. I scrapped the old outline for the rest of the story and started over. This chapter I rewrote in the span of a few days, so give me a week for the next one [I'm old and slow]. Also my visit me at my tumblr, gleeruinedmylife


	10. Gambler

**Disclaimer: see chapter one**

**AN: **I'm sorry that you had to wait so long, but the final chapter is here.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nine: Gambler<strong>

|x|X|x|

Santana waited until she heard the metallic thump of the lift before she ventured out into the corridor to sneak into the bathhouse. With the past few days being as dreadful as they were and the bomb Brittany just dropped on her, really that was more of a surprising orange flare in the midst of the nuclear assault on her life; Santana wanted a few minutes to herself in case she was stripped of her freedom while visiting the Capital.

Brittany's promise was all she had to hold on to.

With her towel and necessities tucked under her arm, Santana quickly crossed the hall and disappeared into the bathhouse. Once inside she peered around the lockers and found it to be empty. Brittany had said that they were close to Windfall, so she assumed everyone was running about preparing to dock at the base. Not that she expected anyone to visit her now.

She slipped off her clothes, kicking them into a heap next to the wall, and found her favorite stall of the four. The hot water sputtered to life and Santana was eager to get under the spray. Partly because she was overdue for one, but mostly she thought the hot stream would clear her head. Santana sighed as her body slumped into the water's warmth. She wished to have a proper soak and let her muscles uncoil, but she was sure Brittany would be expecting her soon at the bay. So she set out to untangled her hair under the water. It was an act that usually brought some comfort and clarity to her. Yet, today instead of enjoying the feeling of her nails scratching her scalp and her fingers running through her hair, she wondered what it would be like to have someone else do it. Someone like Brittany.

Santana tilted her face under the spray and grumbled into the stream. For the past week the blonde lieutenant had been invading her thoughts. Primarily they were of a decent, logical nature; mostly centering on whether or not she could trust Brittany fully. But now that she stood under the hot spray, with probably the last minutes she would have to herself for quite some time, Santana was stuck on was the feeling of Brittany's lips on her own.

The woman's kiss had been surprising at first, but a split second later those pink lips had her melting into a thoughtless pool. Her fingers traced where the woman's lips had been not an hour before, urging her skin to relive Brittany's touches.

Santana jerked her absence-minded fingers from her lips and huffed at herself. She didn't quite understand why she was acting like a young girl experiencing her first kiss. She'd had more than her fair share of kisses.

_Nothing like that._

Santana chided herself again. Thoughts like these led to trouble. And Santana did not need any more trouble in her life. Especially the kind that had her thinking with her vagina and not her head.

Santana groaned and hurried to wash the soap off before her hands joined her mind in the gutter. Santana hadn't seen this as being a problem that would come up. With Brittany that is.

Since the blonde woman arrived, Santana had been stumbling over her own feet around her. Santana had blamed it on Brittany's eccentric nature, but clearly the blonde had other ideas. Ideas that Santana was curious of and quickly forgetting that she needed to be wary of. It was no help that at this point Brittany was in the center of the storm with her, and whether that would be a positive or negative Santana would have to decide later.

Santana turned off the shower and caught a glimpse of her tiny smile in the reflection and rolled her eyes once again as she pulled the fluffy towel around her. She walked over to the lockers and realized that she forgot to bring a change of clothes with her.

Santana mumbled a curse under her breath.

"I'd watch my language while I was in the Capital if I were you." Santana clenched her hand on her towel and spun to find Quinn standing in the dark entry way.

"No shit?" Santana tightened her grip on the towel. Quinn sneaking in here only meant she had something malicious to say.

"Yes, in fact, I would suggest you practice your groveling." Quinn pushed off the wall and stood in front of Santana with a frown.

"I don't _grovel_." Santana moved to walk past Quinn, but the Captain stepped in her path and crossed her arms. "What do you want?"

Santana could tell Quinn had sucked in her cheeks. A good sign she was pissed. It hurt seeing the Captain's green eyes focused on her in such a way, as if Santana was now a piece of dirt, something to rid herself of.

Santana wanted to cross her arms and mirror Quinn, but she settled for clenching her fists in her towel as she waited for Quinn's snarky comment. "What crawled up your ass Fabray?"

"I don't know what you think Brittany's going to do for you. Hell I don't know what you're thinking." Quinn finally uncrossed her arms only to throw them above her head. "This is what I know. That A, you killed someone—

"I—"

"Yeah not on purpose, you tell Anderson that."

Santana dropped her gaze to the floor and felt the water droplets from her hair trail down her back and shoulders.

"And B, you're suspended for getting one of your techs killed."

Santana muttered against Quinn's echoing voice. "Matt wasn't my fault."

"This is what I'm trying to tell you." Quinn's voice was more of a whine than anything else. The words undid all the reassuring Brittany had just done. Santana felt her world spinning again and dropped to the bench in front of the lockers.

Quinn let out a sigh and moved to stand in front of her. "How are you going to convince the Capital's Tribunal that none of this is your fault? That they shouldn't strip you of your title and toss you into a cell. That all of your fuck ups are just misunderstandings."

"Brittany said—"

"Santana wake up." Santana's head snapped to Quinn's eyes. "Brittany's a Lieutenant General at Windfall, and not a good one. In the Capital she's nothing. Nothing but your superior."

Santana knew what Quinn was working up to. Santana had the very same thought earlier, albeit it was over powered by the promises Brittany was making. She wanted to believe Brittany, but it was becoming hard when Brittany was dragging her away from anything familiar to a place where the only thing judges see is rank. She might had been able to scare Figgins into letting her off, but now…

Santana felt her mouth dry as she remembered the only name Brittany let slip. "Do you know a General St. James?"

Quinn shook her head. "St. James? I knew a Captain St. James. But I wouldn't doubt he's stabbed his way into a General's title."

Santana's nerves got the best of her, her legs jumping up to pace the small space in the locker room. She swallowed hard, doing her best not to snap at Quinn. "What do I do now?"

Quinn opened her mouth to answer, but Artie appeared before them delivering a message from Rachel requesting her presence in the bridge for initial docking identifications. Quinn moved to the door slowly, "I really don't know Santana. But I think you've just run out of time."

The door clicked shut and Santana felt her knees buckle. She took a steadying breath as she crouched on the floor.

A war raged inside her. One half believed in Brittany and the other told her not to be that naïve. There was no time for crying or panic, she had to get dressed and take what's coming for her. Her legs flexed and carried her across the room, through the door and into her room.

The prickling signs of tears welled inside her, but she couldn't let them surface. Santana made it to her locker, the metal door open, ready to let her towel drop before she realized that she pasted someone sitting at Brittany's desk.

"You alright Santana?"

Santana clenched her jaw, in hopes that her voice would come across as angry and steady. "Trouty you better have a good reason for being in here."

"Easy, Brittany sent me in here."

Santana clutched the towel closer and took a breath to shake off her conversation with Quinn.

"To perv on me while I get dressed?" Santana spun around and glared at his short wavy bangs in hopes to send the man away.

Sam blushed, but didn't falter. He pulled a small container out of his coat pocket while averting his eyes. "It's Eir cream, Brittany tracked it down for you."

Santana took the cream from Sam, eyeing him and the container suspiciously. The trade you made with Eir cream was pretty harsh. Aside from causing a person to go broke and end up owing shady people favors; Eir's cream would heal pretty major injuries. Santana knew that it would finally heal her injury and she'd be left with some soreness, however she'd were left stinking for days. Not just normal stink. Eir was the kind that causes people to lose their breakfasts, previous dinners, and most of their stomach linigs.

She unscrewed the top, readying herself for the awful smell that came along with the cream's healing properties. But the bowel shaking stench of Eir never came.

It fact, it almost smelled pleasant. Almost.

Before Santana had the chance to pull her nose away from the container in her palm Sam grinned. "It's from Kurt's personal storage. I'm guessing this is the reason that I never see him in my lab for burns or whatever else an engine could do to your fingers."

"How did Brittany get Kurt to give this up?" Santana dropped down onto her bed, taking a generous amount of the expensive cream onto her fingers and working it into her slowly healing leg.

"Something just short of a miracle for sure. Who knows what he had to do to get it in the first place." Sam chuckled to himself and pushed himself out of Brittany's chair.

"Thanks Sam." Santana closed the cream and threw it back to the doctor. Her toss was aimed at the center of his face, but Sam caught it as always.

"Don't thank me, Brittany did all the leg work." Sam opened the cabin's door and Santana watched her numbed skin twist and seam itself together, in a way that was horrifyingly captivating.

"She's not too bad is she?" Santana's head jerked up.

"Out Trouty." Santana huffed at the smirk the blonde doctor wore. Her command only succeeded in bringing Sam back into the room.

Before Santana could protest Sam scooped her up off the bed in a tight hug. "You'll be back, you'll be okay."

Santana stopped her hands from pushing Sam away and wrapped one of her arms around his shoulders. "I hope so."

Sam gave Santana a final squeeze, "I know so."

With that Sam left and Santana felt her emotional rollercoaster dive into a hurricane. She dropped her towel and quickly dressed, desperately clinging to the hope that Brittany would live up to Sam's words.

|x|X|x|

There weren't any comforting words for Santana as she stood in the loading bay alongside Brittany.

She could only watch the few members of the crew scurry about, most keeping their heads down and focused on the ground. Santana decided to mimic Brittany and wore her Republic Officer dress uniform. The ribbons and pins she had spent so much time and effort collecting, now felt heavy as they hung from her chest. Her shoulders ached as she forced them straight and her back tall.

Out of the corners of her eyes she looked towards the back of the bay, hoping to catch a smile from her friends. What she found were only mindless soldiers. Finn and Puck avoided her glances, and they were quick to leave when they finished helping Kurt. Santana turned and joined Brittany in staring dead ahead.

They waited for the bay doors to open up to the crowded dock at Windfall. Santana closed her eyes, preparing herself for the questioning looks and stares from people that have no doubt heard the news about murderess Santana Lopez.

The giant iron doors clicked into place, but Santana couldn't will her feet forward. Brittany's hand rested on her shoulder, causing Santana to let out a breath she didn't remember taking. Santana saw the worried look on Brittany's face and tried to gather her courage.

"Remember what I said?" Brittany's voice was a mere whisper above the noise of the ships and people.

Santana nodded and looked out to the dock. She was quick to catch the stripes and stares of Republic Officers moving up and down the aisles. She felt something brush against her fingers. Santana jerked her hand jerk away from the object, but then she felt something wrap around her pinky finger and tug. Santana finally looked down to see Brittany's little finger hooked on her own. Traveling her eyes upwards, she saw a small smile fight its way onto Brittany's face.

It was all Santana needed to take her first step. It was all Santana had.

|x|X|x|

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><p><strong>END<strong>

**AN: **I do plan on a sequel. It will follow Brittany as main POV, and Santana will of course be by her side. I hoped you all enjoyed the beginning of the journey.


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